


Rituals and Romance: A Companion Piece to Conjuring a Heart

by UppityBitch



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 13:13:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11105283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UppityBitch/pseuds/UppityBitch
Summary: Powerful voodoo queen Caroline is back! With Klaus by her side along with her outspoken friend Bonnie and a cast of equally quirky characters, we continue our journey into the sexy, exciting universe my version of Caroline calls home. (A sequel to Conjuring a Heart told in a series of one-shots.)





	1. The Liar, the Vitch and the Wardrobe Malfunction

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Some violence.

“But we are women too:  
We may not have the means to achieve nobility;  
Our cleverness lies in crafting evil.”

— Medea, _Euripides_

            

* * *

     

“Damn it, Klaus, I need Lorenzo’s head now,” Caroline yelled at the hybrid as she struggled to maintain the golden force field her power created around a shrieking Camille.

Klaus threw the shriveled, desiccated flesh to Caroline, who caught it one-handed. “Is this why you insisted upon keeping this gruesome totem around, love? Did you know my mother would make an appearance once more,” he asked, glaring at Camille.

“Of course not! My students call me ‘Miss Caroline’, not ‘Miss Cleo’!” Caroline shook her head angrily, glancing briefly at the shrunken head of her nemesis. “Lorenzo was a vile, evil thing. Sometimes such a corrupt soul will leave a powerful mark on its vessel. I decided to keep a token just in case I needed to use it to channel more power.” She nodded her head in the direction of Camille, who was still shrieking. “Of course, I didn’t anticipate needing to use it as a talisman against my hybrid lover’s long-deceased mother who somehow managed to possess the twit bartender.”  

“Caroline, I admit at first I thoroughly enjoyed the twit bartender’s screams, but now it’s just irritating — like the rest of her,” Rebekah called out from the other side of the protective barrier Caroline had created.

Rolling her eyes, Caroline flexed her palm where Lorenzo’s head rested. As she chanted, she could hear Bonnie and Rebekah’s voice joining hers as they began the ritual. She couldn’t help the smile that graced her lips as the grotesque visage before her caught fire, sending tendrils of red flame across the magical barrier and into Camille. “There — a perfectly soundproof barrier. Also, now Medea can’t work any magic and she’s bound within the twit bartender’s completely defenseless human form.”

“Utterly useless,” Bonnie snidely added.

Caroline groaned in exasperation, “Seriously? Beks and Bon, you can’t still be threatened by the twit bartender! I told you guys to just have one big, sloppy group bang with man-whore Marcel to get over this stupid rivalry.”

“Could we perhaps not discuss your rather liberal interpretations of relationships in conjunction with my baby sister, sweetheart,” Klaus asked, sighed dramatically. “Furthermore, not to nitpick, but the _twit bartender_ did graduate recently.”

Caroline scoffed, “Please. She actually had the balls to tell you she wanted to be your therapist. Because a handful of years in college somehow qualify you to provide emotional support to a thousand years of egocentric, sociopathic violence. That’s the epitome of twit bartender reasoning.”

Camille struggled against the invisible bonds that held her, shooting Caroline a deathly glare. Cocking an eyebrow, Caroline playfully said, “Klaus, it appears Joan Crawford would like a word. I recommend standing behind the barrier — she may have wire hangers.” She released the sound barrier, and the group immediately was accosted by Ester using Camille’s voice.

“You dare think you can destroy me, child? My power alone created the vampire race, and it will be by my hand that I destroy it!”

Klaus laughed, “Esther, you don’t look especially powerful trapped inside the body of a simpering human. It appears you’ve met your match.”

Ester contorted Camille’s face into outrage, “All lies, you filthy abomination! None shall best me!”

Rolling her eyes, Caroline closed the portal she had opened within the protective barrier, having heard enough of Ester’s insanity. “Out of curiosity, Klaus, how many more of these crazy vitch relatives of yours am I going to have to put down? It’s going to make things incredibly awkward when you decide to bring me home to meet your family,” Caroline mocked as she became occupied assembling the remaining ingredients needed to complete the exorcism.

“This should be the last time we encounter a crazy vitch relative,” Rebekah said, casting the thistle into the bonfire next to them. “Besides, trying to kill each other is what this family does. A simple exorcism is practically a hug to us. In fact —”

“Speaking of hugs, dear sister,” Klaus interrupted, smirking, “I noticed the lingering embrace Marcel pulled you into when we dropped off Hope and Elijah on the way here. I thought you swore off ‘lying man-whore Marcel’ after the last time you caught him in a compromising position involving an electric blanket, strawberry Pop-Tarts and Bonnie’s apprentice baker?”

Bonnie cried out indignantly, “That lying bastard! I taught him that trick! That was a sacred sexy toaster pastry moment we shared! Caroline, next girls’ night we’re staying in and you’re showing me how to turn that man-whore’s balls into eggshells. Beks, you in?”

As Rebekah nodded enthusiastically, her eyes glittering with mischief, Klaus shook his head mockingly, “Let’s not be hasty. After all, it was Marcel who figured out something was amiss with Camille.”

Caroline snorted as Bonnie handed her the ivory-handled knife and dried spring wheat bundles. “Yeah, twit bartender stopped blatantly flirting with him, and he’s too much of a man-whore not to notice. So when he started paying attention, he caught her leaning over in those ridiculous low-riders and they slipped down too far, displaying the tell-tale possession mark a body reveals when it’s a host against its will.”

Bonnie laughed as she set the wheat ablaze. “Wait a minute — the all-powerful vitch’s elaborate revenge plot was foiled because of a wardrobe malfunction?”

“To be fair, Bon, I doubt low-riders were frequently worn back in the day when the Mikaelsons were being hunted by dinosaurs,” Caroline replied, giggling at the indignant noises Klaus and Rebekah made. Sighing, she squared her shoulders and added, “All right, we’ve delayed this as long as we can. Let’s finish this.” She motioned toward Klaus who brought her a large hog.

Bonnie and Rebekah joined hands as they chanted along with Caroline. Flexing her palm, she tossed the remaining ashes from Lorenzo’s skull toward the magical barrier, dissolving it. As Camille began screaming, Caroline could see Ester’s ghostly presence detach from its host. Caroline called forth the loa spirits, sending Ester into the hog beside her. Unconscious, Camille collapsed on the ground and the hog began squealing. Caroline swiftly slit its throat, finally destroying Ester’s tie to this plane.

Grinning broadly, Klaus kissed Caroline’s forehead and asked, “Tell me love, do you fancy bacon with our breakfast tomorrow?”


	2. Sense and Stake-ability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Darker themes discussed. Some violence. Also, inappropriately timed smut.

“I have not wanted syllables where actions have spoken so plainly.”   
― Jane Austen, [_Sense and Sensibility_](https://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/2809709)

 

* * *

 

                  The splintered bar stool leg slid easily into the vampire’s flesh, parting the pale skin with barely a whisper. His dark brow furrowed in confusion as he stared down at the makeshift stake, as though confused by its purpose. His veins rose to the surface, silvering his skin in the afternoon sun. Before his wretched soul left behind his decaying body, Caroline’s steel blue eyes caught his gaze and she declared, “The Mystic Falls sheriff sends her regards, Damon.” It was unclear whether her final words registered with the vampire before he met his end — no matter — vengeance was hers.

                  “I suppose this is what I can expect by rudely appearing at your doorstep unannounced.” Klaus’ confident footsteps echoed across the paver stones as he walked into Caroline’s back yard.

                  Not bothering to glance at her surprise visitor, she continued staring at the decomposing vampire currently skewered to her fence. “I was just settling some business.”

                  Klaus arched a questioning eyebrow as he recognized the pitiful remains. “I’m curious, love, what business did you have with Damon Salvatore?”

                  Grimly, Caroline replied, “My business wasn’t so much _with_ that vampire as it was _about_ him. A few months ago, the sheriff of Mystic Falls came to see me. She had learned that Damon had compelled and assaulted her teenage daughter. Understandably, she was devastated. And furious.” She clenched her fists in anger as she continued to glare at the corpse before her. “The poor woman was dying of cancer and this sick bastard, who had _befriended_ her, offered to give her a eulogy that focused on how wonderful her daughter was. I cannot fathom the deviant mind that could reconcile that insulting, hollow gesture.”

                  Klaus was thoughtful for a moment as he pulled her toward his body, enveloping her in his reassuring warmth. “The time I spent in Mystic Falls was brief, but I did have the misfortune to interact with this pathetic excuse for a vampire on more than one occasion. Had I known the depths of his depravity, I would have dispatched him myself ages ago.”

                  Caroline sighed, rubbing his forearms, soothingly. “I don’t mind being used as an instrument of vengeance in this case. The woman had been distraught, but she also was very clear in her need for him to suffer before he met his end.” She pursed her lips as she studied the body before them. “Although it’s possible that I went too far.”

                  “Sweetheart,” Klaus began, hugging her tightly, “Please don’t doubt yourself. He was a reprehensible creature that deserved his fate.”

                  “Actually, my concern stems from the force of my magical staking.” Caroline observed the body more closely and huffed, “Damn it, “I bet I’ll have to replace the fence.”

                  Laughing heartily, Klaus pulled her toward the stone fire pit where they sat on the wide ledge, basking in the warmth. “You are too delightful for words.” He kissed the top of her golden head, caressing her shoulders. “I must admit, I find myself quite curious as to what sort of torture you deemed satisfactory for Mr. Salvatore.”

                  Caroline shivered at his touch, suddenly finding herself craving a more carnal embrace. “I cursed him so his penis would shrink an inch each month,” she explained, shifting her body to trail kisses up Klaus’ flexing bicep. “I ‘influenced’ his dreams so he would feel the need to seek out my assistance. Upon his arrival, I told him that I could help.” She shrugged her shoulders casually, “Perhaps he should have been more specific about the type of help he sought.”

                  “Indeed,” Klaus murmured, flashing in front of her to crouch in between her knees. His hands caressed her thighs as they bunched the gauzy blue material of her skirt. “I intend to be quite specific in my dealings with you, sweetheart.” Grasping her thighs firmly, he commanded, “Open wide for me, love.” Smirking, he dipped his head down, adding, “I require room to work.”

                  Caroline ran her fingers through his dirty blonde curls, gently tugging on the ends. She shuddered as he licked a slow, seductive trail along her ivory skin, flattening his tongue as he came closer to her throbbing center. Upon reaching her panties, he held his tongue against her cotton-covered opening, tasting her trickling juices. When she began to rock her hips against the warmth of his tongue, he growled and began nibbling at her hidden trembling folds. “Klaus,” she moaned, increasing the thrust of her hips, “I need you,” she added breathlessly.

                  Klaus raised his head momentarily, his dimples deepening. “Patience, sweetheart. What your sweet little pussy _wants_ and what it actually _needs_ is my specialty. Permit me to demonstrate.” He ducked back down, resuming his exquisite torture with his teeth, nipping at her delicate skin over her panties. He unsheathed his fangs, sliding a pointed end underneath the elastic, cleanly slicing through the cotton barrier.

                  Caroline gasped as his fingers darted forward to spread her folds wide, delighting in the feeling of his tongue thrusting insistently into her moist center. As he relentlessly lapped at her essence, his hands made their way to her ass, pulling her tender flesh away from the cool stone and firmly against him. She wrapped her hips around him, wanting no barrier against the desire that was building between them. She rutted against his beautiful face, savoring the rough pinching of his fangs as he pricked her sensitive skin.

                  Droplets of blood welled within the shallow scratches of her inner thighs, and with a growl, Klaus’ eyes shaded to gold as he feverishly lapped at her life force. “Your delectable blood is perfumed with the overwhelming scent of your arousal, love. I’ve never had better,” he declared, pushing her back against the rock ledge and hastily unzipping his jeans. With a grunt, he sheathed himself within her welcoming core, wrapping her legs around his waist.

                  Caroline cried out in ecstasy as he consumed her with his powerful strokes, pulling out momentarily to rub the feather-soft skin of his erection against her sopping folds. “Please, please,” she begged, “make me come.” She arched into him, angling her hips.

                  Gazing down at her writhing body, Klaus rumbled, “Let me give you what you need.” Grasping his head, he slid it against her twitching clit, making her vibrate with need. “That’s it,” he cooed, “Look at how it dances for me.” A few more insistent swipes with his slick head and he groaned, plunging his cock back into her delightful warmth.

                  She stilled against him, clenching around his pulsing member. “So good,” she purred, panting slightly.

                  Klaus grit his teeth as her body continued to squeeze his sweat-soaked flesh, milking his arousal as it poured forth until he was spent. As he gathered her into his arms once more, properly sated by their amorous interlude, he glanced at the dreary corpse still pinned to the fence row. “Tell me, sweetheart, how long did Mr. Salvatore wait before he sought you out for his little problem?”  

                  Chuckling, she revealed, “Damon turned out to be rather stubborn. When he finally approached me, he was as smooth as a Ken doll.”

                  “Really?” Amused, Klaus asked, “And when did you first curse him?”

                  “Two months ago,” Caroline impishly replied.

                 


	3. A Yam in the Sun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter blends Yoruba and Egyptian mythology along with random crazy shit I think of because writing is still cheaper than therapy. This chapter gives us another glimpse into Caroline’s relationship with her godson, Remy. Remy is first mentioned in Chapter 6 of Conjuring a Heart and plays a greater role in Chapters 8 and 9 within that work.

“I will teach and work and things will happen, slowly and swiftly.”

― Lorraine Hansberry, _A Raisin in the Sun_

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“This is stupid. Can’t you just use your magic and _poof_ some roots on it,” Remy whined, looking up from doodling a car in his spiral notebook.

Caroline sighed, reading over the instructions from Remy’s fifth-grade science teacher. “Sorry, sweetie, there’s nowhere on this assignment that says you can use magic to cut corners on your science project.” She smiled, leaning over to ruffle his messy brown hair. “Besides, you shouldn’t just rely on magic to cut corners. Sometimes having to work for something makes the moment you reach your goal that much sweeter.”

Remy grinned. “Oh yeah? But you and Miss Bonnie did that spell to get twit bartender’s um, Th- The- Theseus published so that college in California would hire her. Shouldn’t she have had to work for her goal her own self?”

Rolling her eyes, she replied, “One — it’s not nice to call her that name…until you hit puberty and are her intellectual equal and then we can revisit that rule. Two — I’m absolutely ecstatic that you’ve been paying attention to the mythology I’ve been teaching you, but it’s her _thesis_ that we got published. One was a Greek god that slayed a minotaur. The other is indecipherable scribblings of an insignificant mortal that laid a Marcel. Oops — I mean _loved_. Three — it was because she was putting in so much _work_ that Bonnie and I decided she should be rewarded. By relocating her far, far away. For her safety. And everyone else’s sanity.”

“But this is a dumb science project. Everybody already knows that you can make a yam sprout roots in a jar with some water.” Pouting, Remy darkened the wheel of the car he was drawing with his pencil.

“Well, I admit that poking toothpicks into a yam, placing it in a drinking glass full of water and having to write about its appearance in your notebook every day lacks flair. However, your misguided science teacher’s purpose behind this project is to instill a sense of wonder in her students for the world around you. She wants you to understand that life has a magic all its own and while she may not be aware of all of the types of magic in the world, she at least recognizes the magic that exists within all living things,” Caroline attempted to explain, but from the careless shrug of his small shoulders, she could tell that Remy was not especially moved by her impassioned speech.

Grabbing his small hand, she placed it on the yam in front of them. Her blue eyes twinkling, she said, “Can I show you what I’m talking about?”

Suddenly, his brown eyes lit up. Excitedly he asked, “Are you gonna do some magic?”

“Yes, but only for educational purposes,” she declared, winking at her godson. Placing her hand over his, she quietly murmured an incantation, transporting their conscience to a vastly different world. Suddenly, they were both seated on a large, flat rock surrounded by the tall, golden grasses of a savanna. In the distance, they can see people digging into the earth with iron tools.

“Where are we,” Remy asked, his eyes round with wonder.

“I’ve taken us back into one of the first memories Abby showed me. This is the village where she grew up long ago,” Caroline explained. “They are harvesting yams. Her people, the Yoruba, were farmers and they placed great significance on their crops. Their entire survival was dependent upon their ability to cultivate their land. They couldn’t just go to a grocery store and grab a couple of frozen pizzas.”

Remy rolled his eyes at her and said sarcastically, “I _knew_ that.” He paused briefly to watch the villagers, from small children to the elderly, all working together to harvest the yams and place them within tall, woven baskets, almost with reverence. “I guess I just never thought about what it was really like though,” he finished quietly. Tugging on the grass stalks beside them, he mumbled, “Do you think they got scared? Not knowing if they would have enough food?”

Her heart melted as she could hear her godson’s concern for people that were long-gone. His compassion for others was a beautiful gift and she vowed to always nurture it. She thought carefully and answered, “I think that the uncertainty may have been scary at times, but see how Abby’s people all worked together to achieve their goal? In their community, they took care of each other, like a big family. And when you have people looking out for one another, it makes the world seem less scary.”

His brown eyes, suspiciously moist, flicked to hers briefly before lowering to the grass strands he was coiling in his hands. “Kind of like the pack? How we take care of each other,” he asked quietly.

“Just like your pack,” Caroline replied confidently. “You know, Abby told me that her people had a myth about how yams were created. Would you like to hear it,” she asked, resisting the urge to speak in riddles and hit Simba over the head with a staff. Taking note of Remy’s vigorous nodding, she explained, “Long ago, Loa Zaka took note of the Yoruba’s struggles and wanted to give them a gift that would ensure their survival. He is said to appear as a simple peasant, barefoot with a straw hat perched on his bald head and a clay pipe in his mouth. He was known as a gossip, delighting in causing mischief about the village. However, as a loa of agriculture, he took his dominion over the fields seriously and noted the Yoruba’s hunger. So, one day, he broke off his di — um, _digit_ , and planted it in the earth, which created the first yam harvest. The people were so grateful for this delicious new bounty that they honor Loa Zaka with an annual Eje Festival in which a chosen Yoruba leader offers the best of the harvest to the deity who was responsible for ensuring the survival of their people.” 

Remy seemed lost in thought as he considered Caroline’s tale. Finally, he wrinkled his nose and said, “So every Thanksgiving, we’re eating this god’s finger?”

Frowning, she replied, “Of course not; it’s just a myth that Abby told me.”

Giggling, Remy responded, “Sure. Just like the myths of immortal voodoo priestesses and werewolves?”

Caroline paused to consider Remy’s logic. “Maybe I’ll just pick up a pumpkin pie for your grandmother’s Thanksgiving celebration, just in case.”

 

 


	4. Phallus in Wonderland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Klaus and Caroline’s initial adventures with the Peruvian drink, chicha, can be found in Chapter 12 of Conjuring a Heart. 
> 
> Drug use combined with liberal quoting from Louis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland. Also, graphic smut.

“It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.” — Louis Carroll, _Alice in Wonderland_

 

* * *

 

                  Klaus suspiciously eyed the shotgun houses cheerily painted in Caribbean-inspired blues, greens, pinks and yellows that lined Rampart Street. “I thought we were going to a bar, love, not aimlessly wander the Faubourg Marigny neighborhood.”

                  Caroline rolled her eyes as she pulled him to the well-worn stairs in front of a blindingly pink house with yellow trim. “We are. It’s a hookah bar that’s run by an acquaintance of mine. She specializes in the information we seek.” Noting his disbelief, she sighed, “Look Klaus, as much as I wish one of my countless rituals had worked properly to allow me to locate the missing neighborhood children, they didn’t! That means something big is blocking me. The only thing my magic could accomplish was the reassurance that the children were still alive. We need to figure out who’s taking them and rescue them before it’s too late!”

                  His steel gray gaze softened as he kissed her open palm. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll do whatever it takes to find them.”

                  The yellow door suddenly swung open and they were faced with an elderly woman whose silver hair was pulled back into an elaborate plait. “Priestess Caroline.” She bowed slightly, but cheekily added, “You’re late. The spirits anticipated your arrival an hour ago.” She arched an eyebrow, merging several wrinkles along her forehead. “Perhaps you need lessons in satisfying your hybrid with more haste?”

                  Klaus bristled under her scrutiny. “Mind your tongue, witch,” he warned.

                  “Honestly, Klaus. It’s a wonder you have any subjects left in your kingdom with those diplomacy tactics. Furthermore, Cornelia isn’t a witch. She’s a Roman sibyl,” Caroline explained. She looked the woman in the eye and said seriously, “And we need answers only you can provide.”

                  Cornelia nodded solemnly at Caroline. “It’s the children you seek.” She motioned them into her house, stepping around small groups of people huddled around low tables with ornate glass hookahs perched in the middle. “Take your hybrid upstairs, Priestess Caroline. I will be along shortly with what you require for your journey.”

                  Caroline pulled Klaus toward the rickety stairs, climbing them until they reached a small attic filled with plush cushions and wide, Roman-style couches. “I know Cornelia can be a bit abrasive, but I trust her to help us. She’s from a distinguished line of Roman oracles and her skills of divination have proven useful to me and mine on more than one occasion.”

                  Klaus carefully joined her on the edge of one of the couches, glancing around the room. “I was informed that the last line of sibyls had ended when the Black Death swept through Sicily.” He frowned and added, “This information could have greatly enhanced my doppelganger quest all those centuries ago.”

                  “Some of us enjoy our privacy, Klaus. You can’t begrudge those who wish to practice their beliefs in peace.” She nervously flicked her eyes at his face before staring down at her feet. “In order for Cornelia to help us, we will need to drink…something. Once we begin to hallucinate, Cornelia will be able to read our visions and hopefully give us answers.”   

                  His full lips twitched as though he was stifling a laugh. “Does the prospect of not being in control make you nervous, love?”

                  “No,” Caroline said defensively. “It’s just that I know how you need to be in control all the time and I thought you wouldn’t agree to do this with me if I gave you too much warning.”

                  Klaus shook his head, chuckling. “Sweetheart, you have more than earned my trust. If you say that this is the only way to stop the assailant, then I believe you.” He tilted his head, studying her, “So, what will we be drinking?”

                  “Chicha,” she groaned. “I just hope this time you can prevent me from causing another horrid fashion trend. Bell bottoms, seriously?”

                  Grinning, Klaus said, “At least when you drank it, you didn’t immediately seek out an extinct civilization to conquer. I discovered that the Inca civilization was quite well hidden in 1985.”

                  Cornelia came bustling through the door and set down two goblets on the table in front of them. Cackling she said, “Drink up! And in the interest of preserving archaeological ruins and current fashion trends, I will guard the attic door while you embark on your journey. I’ll return once the effects have set in.”

                  Handing Caroline her drink, he turned to Cornelia and said offhandedly, “When Caroline first said she had an acquaintance that ran a hookah bar, I pictured a Louis Carroll-style caterpillar lounging about,” he smirked.

                  Cornelia laughed heartily, handing him a goblet. “Don’t be ridiculous, hybrid. As Priestess Caroline learned the hard way, the Lepidoptera tribe never migrates this far south.”

                  Noting his incredulous gaze, Caroline shrugged her shoulders casually. “They’re allergic to gardenias. Not that I blame them — gardenias are such an old lady fragrance.” She stuck her tongue out at Cornelia, who mockingly wagged her finger.

                  Glancing at Klaus, Caroline saw his dawning horror at the thought of giant insects and patted his arm reassuringly. “It’s best not to dwell on it.”

                  After Cornelia left, Klaus shook his head, clearly trying to rid himself of the unwanted imagery Caroline and Cornelia had created. He clinked their goblets together and said, “To our health.”

                  They gulped down the fermented purple corn, wincing at the strong taste. As they imbibed the thick liquid, their senses were overwhelmed. Suddenly, the small attic came alive as they lounged on the soft couch, gazing at the wooden rafters where flowers began to bloom, sending vividly green, leafy vines winding down to their upturned faces to impishly tickle their noses.

                  “You know, I’ve always enjoyed _Alice in Wonderland_ ,” Caroline remarked hazily. “The Cheshire Cat was my favorite. ‘We’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.’” She sighed, stretching her arms toward the ceiling to try to caress the delicate orange petals that drifted just out of reach of her fingers. “Brilliant writing for brilliant minds. Just…brilliant.”  

                  Klaus laughed loudly, blinking rapidly. “The Mad Hatter struck a chord with me. ‘Why is a raven like a writing desk?’” He laughed again, drawing lazy circles in the air with his hands that ballooned comically before his eyes. “Telling his impossible riddles, lording his wisdom over the mundane peasants. _That_ is brilliant writing love. For brilliant minds like yours.”

                  Giggling, Caroline said, “Alice always irritated the shit out of me. ‘Curiouser and curiouser’ — what kind of bullshit reasoning is that? Weird shit is going on and that’s how you’re going to handle it? Seriously?”

                  Klaus kicked off his boots, finding the purple raccoons nibbling at his shoestrings to be bothersome. Let them have the things; he may never wear shoes again. After all, a hybrid king could strut about his kingdom in whatever attire he chose. “Agreed, my love. Alice was a trifling gnat buzzing in the ear of the more worthy. I did, however, enjoy her exclamation, ‘I’m afraid I can’t explain myself, sir. Because I am not myself, you see?’” He turned on his side to gaze at her lovingly. “I am only ever myself when I am with you. I am never myself with others. Just you. And myself.”

                  Caroline finished braiding the leaves that sang softly from the rafters and wrapped the strands around Klaus’ wrist. “Myself thoroughly enjoys yourself. In fact,” she said confidently, throwing one leg over his waist and shimmying her dress up to the tops her thighs, “I must enjoy yourself right now and invite yourself to enjoy myself.”

                  Klaus rose to his elbows, rumbling, “So much enjoyment to be had,” and pulled her mouth onto his in a fiery kiss. He tugged at her tiny pearl buttons, feeling them effortlessly slip through the holes and freeing her breasts for his eager hands.

                  Caroline thrust her ivory globes into his palms, relishing in his urgent, warm touch. A butterfly’s lime-green wings kept flicking her ear just so, but she quickly batted it away. Its true business was with the red tulips dancing along the windowsill, she surmised. She maneuvered her hands between their bodies and began unbuckling Klaus’ belt. She pulled on the leather insistently until the belt came free and she carelessly tossed it to the side where it landed on a giant, red-speckled toadstool that suddenly sprouted from the attic floor. She ground her pelvis against his, delighting in the feel of his rough denim against her exposed skin. She picked up her rhythm as she felt him harden beneath her, tracing sinful patterns across his lap.

                 The urge to be joined with Klaus was unbearable and she quickly scrambled off of him. She posed on her hands and knees on the couch, raising her lilac dress to her hips. With blue eyes blazing, she looked back at him and breathlessly said, “I ache for you.”

                 His eyes flashed a dangerous gold and he struggled to stand up, pulling his engorged member from his jeans, stroking it firmly while gazing at her creamy, rounded cheeks. “Everything I am trembles before you. You may ache for me, but my flesh is tormented by the very memory of your touch.” The room continued spinning, but he was the all-powerful hybrid king and such paltry notions as gravity were beneath such a creature as he. He paused briefly to instruct the fanged squirrel to make note of his decree. Regaining his focus, he stepped behind Caroline, rubbing his reddened tip along the satin edges of her panties. Droplets of his desire soaked into the tiny triangle of fabric, and her skin shuddered at the contact. Nudging the smooth satin to the side, he began tracing a delicious outline of her curves with his quivering erection. Smelling her arousal tipped him over the edge and he suddenly grasped her hips, pulling her molten core onto his dripping cock.

                 She gasped, “How you fill me…never felt this…,” she trailed off, her voice lost in desperate moans. She arched against him, craving his hard body to touch every inch of her. She sighed in relief as he wordlessly answered her wish, his strong arms leaving her hips to yank her dress over her head and encircle her waist. Her buttocks chased his thrusting pelvis, unwilling to release his throbbing cock for more than an instant.

                 “ _Connection_ is what you feel,” Klaus grunted, panting lightly in her ear. He stiffened against her, releasing deep within her core as he felt her body shudder its own sweet completion. “ _Our_ connection,” he whispered tenderly, placing a kiss to the back of her sweat-slicked neck.

                 Caroline smiled as she turned to face him, framing his face with her hands to breathlessly kiss him. She playfully nipped his earlobe before pushing him onto another toadstool that sprang from the floorboards. She pulled off his clothes, needing to bask in the glow of his sated, magnificent form. Kneeling, she wedged herself between his muscular thighs, rubbing her hard nipples along his trembling skin. “Permit me to taste our _connection_ ,” she cooed seductively. Her red tongue languidly licked a path up his length, the sweet stickiness overwhelming her taste buds and further inflaming her desire.

                 As she engulfed his soft member with her welcoming mouth, he groaned, thrusting his hips and grasping her golden tresses. Pulling lightly on her curls, he showed her how he needed to come, already feeling his body respond once more under her skillful ministrations. He jerked forward when the daring vixen flicked the point of her tongue against his sensitive head, softly suckling at his arousal. Once she increased the pressure of her movements and began bobbing faster, he couldn’t prevent his release any longer and felt himself relax as his orgasm washed over him, her swollen lips painted liberally with his desire.

                Caroline gazed up at Klaus adoringly and said, “That was absolutely —“

               “Oh, for goodness sake,” Cornelia suddenly interrupted, “You’re nothing more than stoned teenagers rubbing against each other!” She slammed the attic door behind her in exasperation. “Get your clothes back on! I don’t do nude divinations — anymore. The economy’s on an upswing, you know.” She tossed them their clothes, crossing her arms irritably. 

                As Caroline finished dressing, she pointed at the floor in front of Cornelia and said, “Look Klaus, Cornelia has brought back the flamingos. How delightful!”

               “No love,” Klaus answered, zipping his jeans, “they’re clearly peacocks. You can tell by the distinctive checkerboard pattern.” 

               “Well, that answers the question of whether you’re fully immersed in your visions,” Cornelia said drily. She raised her arms, muttering obscure Latin phrases and vibrating with the force of their combined hallucinations. She reached out to the spirit plane, crossing the great divide and communing with ancestral ghosts long-forgotten. She gasped at what she discovered. Coming back into her body, she wiped her sweaty brow and said solemnly, “You were too close to see what was in front of you. The vessel that your sister, Rebekah, inhabits has awakened to reclaim her body. It is the dark witch Eva who has taken the children.”

                Breaking the stunned silence, Caroline sighed and said, “Well, shit. It turns out we’re all mad here.”

 

 


	5. To Kill a Man-Whore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Chapter 4 ended on a cliffhanger, I decided to follow up with this chapter. In Conjuring, I more or less followed canon in which Rebekah chose to stay in Eva’s body so that she had access to magic to try to resurrect Kol. I deviate from canon with the character of Vincent. Inside jokes from Chapters 1, 3 and 4 in this series and Chapter 12 in Conjuring are referenced in this chapter.

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...Until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.”   
― Harper Lee, _To Kill a Mockingbird_

 

* * *

 

Caroline crouched near the bruised, bloody figure before her, studying him intently. “Marcel, can you walk me through how you missed the moment when Eva took control of her body again,” she asked wryly.

Marcel groaned, raising his head to look at his blonde rescuer blearily. “What can I say? She was into me the whole time, so I didn’t notice anything.”

She rolled her eyes as she began examining the suspiciously minimal chains around his wrists and ankles. “You’re going to be that pervy dad that hits on Hope’s friends barely out of puberty, aren’t you?”

“No,” he said sulkily. “Always card before you clutch.”

“Ick,” Caroline said, wrinkling her nose. “Impart anymore useless fuckboy wisdom and I’ll decide this rescue has become a recovery mission instead.” She glanced around the crumbling school gymnasium, reaching out with her senses to determine if Eva had placed a spell on Marcel’s restraints that would alert her to his escape. At least Eva had selected her villainous lair on the outskirts of New Orleans and away from the general public. The abandoned school had been too badly damaged by Hurricane Katrina to be rebuilt, and the odds of innocent bystanders stumbling into the structure were slim.  

“Have you found Hope,” he quietly asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

She shook her head, quickly running her hands over the metal and murmuring a counter-spell to deactivate the restraints. “By the time we arrived at your place, Eva had already taken you both. Fortunately, once I knew Eva had reclaimed her body, I was able to overcome the mystical blocks she used and performed my locator spell. She has Hope and the missing neighborhood children here somewhere.” She helped Marcel stand up, offering him her wrist. As he eagerly bit into it, she added, “There was so much blood. We thought — we didn’t know, I mean,” she stammered. “It was just so much blood.”

As his wounds closed, Marcel’s eyes darkened as he recalled what happened. “She said she wanted to stay in with Hope. I should have realized something was off — any time I have Hope, Rebekah always wants to go out together to show her off.” He clenched his fists, adding, “The moment she reached for Hope, I saw something shift in her eyes and I _knew_ something wasn’t right. I stepped in and threw her across the room. But then Eva’s magic came out to play and she threw me back. Before I knew it, she’d taken me out and I woke up here.” He grabbed Caroline’s wrist, staring at her face intently. “I’ve been listening for anything to tell me where those kids are, but there’s been nothing. Tell me they’re okay. I need to know!”

Her gaze softened as she pried her wrist out of his grasp. “Yes. My spell detected all of the children are here. They are whole and healthy and they will stay that way,” she vowed. “Now, let’s figure out where she’s put them. My spell indicated she was temporarily away from this place, but I’m sure she’ll be back soon.”

Marcel glanced around suddenly, realizing they were alone. “Where’s Klaus and Bonnie?”

Caroline started to lead him past a row of splintered bleachers. “Bonnie and my followers are currently with Rebekah’s real body trying to safely eject her out of Eva, but I suspect I’ll need up-close-and-personal access to the dark witch for it to work properly. And Klaus is running a quick errand for me.”

“Hope and the rest of those kids are in danger! What could you possibly need him to fetch right now,” he asked, outraged.

“An ingredient,” she replied impatiently.

“Which is?”

“Leverage.” Her blue eyes flashed dangerously. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s try this door first. I think it leads to the main office.”

“You are right about one thing, Caroline,” a voice gleefully called out. “You have wasted enough time.” Eva stepped out of the shadows, her dark eyes glittering with malice. She held out her palm and with a quick puff of air, scattered a gray powder in Caroline’s direction.

Caroline quickly raised her arms to ward off whatever curse Eva had sent her way, but was startled when she felt nothing — no connection to her magic. Just nothing. “What did you do to me,” she shrieked angrily.

Eva laughed. “I temporarily disabled your magic by burning your image.” She added mockingly, “You should be more careful of how your image is captured. Your soul can get caught, you know.”

Marcel murmured in agreement. “I saw that on a documentary one time. I think it’s the Aborigines that believe a photo can capture the soul.”

“Seriously? Marcel, you know damn well you remember that from _Zoolander_ , you tool!” She shook her head angrily, and said, “Eva, I always have a protection spell in place before any photo is taken — how are you _really_ doing this?” She tried summoning her magic once more, growling in frustration.

“It’s not a photo I took. It was a painting,” Eva confessed, grinning as she began to hold Marcel’s gaze while muttering a spell.

“If it’s that _one_ painting, Klaus is going to be _mad_ ,” Marcel said, shuddering slightly. “In fact —“

“Marcel, you look thirsty. Aren’t you thirsty,” Eva interrupted, her voice disturbingly light and sweet. She nodded toward Caroline who narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Perhaps the temporarily human voodoo priestess will offer you a snack?”

It was a though a switch had been flipped as the black veins crawled across Marcel’s face and he lunged toward Caroline. She ran behind the splintered bleachers, knowing he was closing in. As he grabbed her shoulders to spin her around to face him, she clutched a broken edge, allowing the force of Marcel’s grip to aid her in ripping apart the bench. She swung the warped board around, catching him under the jaw.

Briefly dazed, he let go of her. Caroline darted around him, racing away and frantically trying to figure out her next move — stop and face a brain-washed vampire or run toward a psychotic dark witch? Before she could reach a decision, Eva began chanting and she found herself rooted to the floor as Marcel made his way toward her once more. She struggled against the invisible bonds, glaring at Eva. “Your hold over my power is temporary, witch. You’d better hope he drains me quickly,” she said confidently. With a snarl, Marcel grabbed her arm, yanking her back toward him as he plunged his fangs into her neck. The searing pain threatened to make her pass out, but she balled up her fist and punched him in the throat, dislodging his grip.

Before he could attack again, two clawed hands slithered around his head, violently wrenching it to one side with a satisfying crack. Klaus stepped over Marcel’s crumpled body, his steel gray eyes darting over Caroline to assess her injuries. “Apologies for my tardiness, love,” he said as he quickly gave her his blood. He ran his hands protectively over her form, silently reassuring himself that she was alright.

Before she could respond, Marcel came back to life, his snapped neck releasing him from Eva’s control. With a snarl, he flashed toward Eva, but she murmured a spell that levitated him off of the floor. As she clenched one fist, he cried out in agony as his body contorted against his will. A series of sharp snaps indicated that she was breaking his bones in sequence, starting with his toes.

Wincing as she saw Marcel’s hip bones crushed before her eyes, Caroline said lowly to Klaus, “Are we sure that Rebekah’s not driving right now? Because this is the live-action version of our girls’ night bitchfest.”

“Enough, witch,” Klaus growled at Eva. “Release Marcel and tell me where my daughter and the rest of the children are!”

Eva laughed cruelly. “ _Your_ daughter? Pathetic hybrid, by now everyone knows that the silly little werewolf birthed this pathetic being’s seed, not yours.”

Caroline held back a murderous Klaus and acidly told Eva, “Hope is a fortunate little girl who has more love than you can imagine. Klaus is her father. Marcel is her father. The details don’t matter. It’s all very _My Two Dads_ but without the tragic mullet.” She stepped forward with confidence as she felt the reassuring glimmer of her magic return as Eva’s spell faded. “Using the innocence of childhood as a conduit for your powers is a disgusting act that must be dealt with.”

“Your powers may have returned, Priestess, but you’re still rendered powerless. You cannot harm me without risking Rebekah,” Eva snarled.

Exchanging a meaningful look with Caroline, Klaus nodded once before flashing away, returning with a badly beaten man and a small black sack. Klaus gripped the man’s dark hair in his fist, wrenching his face to examine it carefully. He flicked his gaze at Eva, who was struggling to keep her expression impassive. “As I began to bleed your precious Vincent, dear Eva, I must admit I struggled to find that special quality, that little _spark_ ,” he spat the words out casually, digging his claws into the man’s cheek, “the ingredient that makes him valuable to you. He’s a fellow dark witch, capable of the most depraved acts imaginable. His reputation is nearly as reprehensible as yours.” Klaus pulled his hand away suddenly, dipping a gore-encrusted nail into his mouth. “I failed utterly to see his appeal. Do enlighten me, won’t you?” 

“Vincent is my husband. We share a soul and a fire that you will _never_ understand,” Eva said, darting her eyes at the trembling form in Klaus’ clutches.

“Of course you do,” Klaus said mockingly. “Which is why you will trade the lives of Hope and Marcel and the rest of the children for that of your beloved. After all, you’ll be incomplete without your _soul_ and _fire_.”

Eva glanced at Vincent for a long moment, and then said resolutely, “No.”

“No?” Caroline shook her head in disbelief. She turned to Klaus and said stiffly, “She’s right — you and I would have no comprehension of _that_ kind of devotion.”

“Agreed.” Klaus looked down at Vincent and said, “Tough luck, mate. You chose your lover poorly.” With a swipe of his claws, he tore Vincent’s head from his body, holding it toward Eva who was frozen in place. “Apologies — in my haste to make a point, you weren’t allowed to give him a proper farewell. Would you like to do so now?”

Eva shook her head angrily, “Doesn’t matter. You still can’t do anything to me while Rebekah’s still floating around in here like a lost little girl.”

“Not true,” Caroline said briskly. With a flick of her wrist, she had immobilized the dark witch, enabling Marcel to begin to heal from the torture.  Caroline continued, “First, I’m severing your link to Rebekah. Then, I’m stripping away your magic and sending it to a dead zone in the spiritual plane where no one can ever access it.” Her eyes lit up as her phone began ringing. With a smile she answered, “Bonnie? Is everything in place on your end? You were right that Vincent was not the object of deep emotional significance we needed to strip Eva’s powers. We’re moving forward with the next phase.”

Bonnie laughter echoed in the gymnasium. “Witches should really beware of getting too attached to objects. Maybe you should think about hiding your mortar and pestle just in case?”

Klaus’ lips twitched as Caroline glanced at him before rolling her eyes and ending the call. When her phone lit up with a text message, she read it, making a disgusted face. With an eyebrow raised, Klaus asked, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Bonnie just texted me a list of objects that are apparently sacred to her. Suffice to say, I’m _never_ touching anything in her bakery _ever_ again.” She shuddered as she shoved her phone into her back pocket. “Also, she misspelled _pasta extruder_.”

At Marcel’s slightly embarrassed groan, Klaus threw back his head, laughing. He winked at Caroline and said, “Your adventurous friend does enjoy testing the limits of her fragile human body, doesn’t she? You know, that’s a new one for me as well. Perhaps —“

“No!” Caroline shook her head emphatically. “The bedroom and battlefield are separate, Klaus, remember? Pillow talk is post-battle.” She rummaged through the black sack Klaus had dropped by his feet and pulled out her ceremonial obsidian knife. Then, she stomped over to Eva who was glaring at her, unable to do anything else while immobilized by Caroline’s power. She made a shallow cut in her open palm before using the knife’s sharp point to draw two diagonal cuts across the skin where Eva’s heart lay. Blocking out Eva’s sudden screeching, she called forth the powerful loa spirits to work their will through her body and help her sever the link between Eva and Rebekah. As she felt the familiar warmth and power rise within, she slapped her injured palm forcefully against Eva’s bleeding chest, feeling her enemy’s heart racing.

Eva’s head tipped back as her eyes rolled upward, a great energy dissipating. She groaned at the sensation, clearly understanding its significance. She hurriedly began chanting, drawing her strength to fight Caroline and Klaus now that she had lost her leverage.

Caroline stepped back from Eva and quickly reinstalled the barrier that protected them from Eva’s magic. She checked her phone and was relieved to see that Bonnie had just texted confirmation that the ritual had been successful and Rebekah was safely back in her proper body. “Rebekah is secure,” she happily reported to Klaus.

Nodding his head, he turned toward Marcel who was fully upright once more and nearly healed. “Fantastic — Marcel, while Caroline and I finish up with the witch, why don’t you see if you can locate Hope and the rest of the children? They’ll likely be encased in some sort of spell that prevents them from leaving whatever room she has them in, but we’ll be taking care of that momentarily.”

Marcel flashed off without a word, clearly anxious to rescue the children.

While Caroline started pulling ingredients out of the sack and placing them on the ground, Klaus strained his ears to monitor Marcel’s movements. He stilled and with a triumphant smile, he said, “Marcel has found the children. They are safe but held behind a barrier spell in the school’s administration office. He’ll remain with them while we conclude our business here.”

Caroline stood up, a small clay pot in her hand. She began walking in a counter-clockwise motion around the protection perimeter in which she had trapped Eva, dipping her hand into the pot and removing white blessing powder to sprinkle along her path. Her voice was light and airy as she spoke, “You know, Eva, it didn’t have to be this way. I told Klaus we could take care of this cleanly. _Neatly_. Without all of this fanfare and pageantry.” Her voice turned cold and her blue gaze hardened as she set down the pot and picked up the black sack once more. “But he convinced me otherwise. Your deeds deserve _more_. Stripping away a witch’s magic doesn’t have to be painful. But for you, _especially_ for you, I shall make an exception.”

Eva met her gaze steadily, trying not to tremble. She scoffed, “I don’t fear you, Priestess. You and your hybrid lover thought the key to my undoing was Vincent. You thought I would be destroyed when my husband took his last breath.” She chuckled darkly. “I have embraced my darkness and my soul does not depend upon the existence of another. You cannot divest me of my magic as there is no being, no object that owns me; I am free.”

Klaus smirked, plunging his hand into the sack Caroline held, withdrawing a small white box. He held it in his palm, casually turning it in the dim light. “That’s what I told Caroline. A worthless, self-loathing creature such as you could not possibly hope to form an attachment to anyone or anything. But then she used her remarkable gifts to show me my miscalculation.”

Caroline quietly noted Eva’s growing discomfort and flipped open the wooden jewelry box to reveal a tiny plastic ballerina twirling to a tinkling tune. “As a child, you stole this from a Dollar General because you knew that if you didn’t take something for yourself, no one else would. I can understand that impulse; it was your birthday, after all. However, that moment marked the beginning of your taking. When you would expect the world would take and take from you.” She sighed with regret as she ignited the blessing powder with one hand and threw the jewelry box into the resulting fire. She noted the anguish on Eva’s face, and she said stoically, “In our world, sometimes the price we pay for magic is more than we can imagine. But for the true servants of the craft, never more than we can bear.”    

Eva coldly watched the flames destroy the small box she had treasured for so many years. With a jerk of her chin she looked away, refusing to allow sentimentality to be her downfall. She emitted an involuntary gasp of pain as Caroline tossed into the flames dried sweet grass and thistle bundles. Her wail became more pronounced as Caroline plunged the bloody ceremonial blade into the fire. The heat grew unbearable as Caroline began chanting, the flames seeming to ebb and flow in harmony with her powerful words. Eva shrieked as she felt her powers dissipate, leaving her a trembling shell. She shakily rose to her knees and chuckled weakly. “You think you have won? You may have stopped me today, but I swear I will return more powerful than before and the retribution I seek will become legend!” 

Caroline raised an eyebrow at Klaus, and then allowed the fire and invisible barrier to evaporate around Eva. She rolled her eyes at Klaus’ triumphant grin and gestured for him to continue.

Klaus smirked and cocked his head to the side as he stepped toward Eva. “You know, former little witch, during our laughably pointless standoff, I’ve been admiring your skull — the hard planes, the sharp ridges — and I’ve realized my lover deserves a small token of my esteem.” He flashed forward and clawed Eva’s head from her body with a sickening squelch of raw hybrid force meeting sinew, blood and bone. He turned toward Caroline, holding Eva’s skull aloft with a brilliant smile.

Caroline sighed in irritation, “Honestly, Klaus. We’ve talked about this. Sever the head _neatly_ from the spine. Ragged bits of flesh are so inelegant.”   


	6. The Haughty-back of New Orleans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took creative liberties with the character of Celeste and the events surrounding the Originals’ occupation of New Orleans during that time period.

“Great events have incalculable results.”   
― Victor Hugo, _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_

 

* * *

 

                  “What’s that?”

                  Caroline looked up from the white trellis she was inserting beside the green been seedlings. She followed Hope’s finger to the leafy green plant she attempted to clumsily stuff into the clay pot. “That is parsley you’re planting, honey.” She frowned slightly when she saw how Hope was crushing the stems. “Here,” she said kindly, “we have to be gentle when we handle the plants.” She used the garden trowel to make the hole in the soil slightly larger. “You know, parsley is a very special plant. Not only does it beautifully dress up a meal and add flavor, it also has a very interesting story about how it was created.”

                  Hope looked doubtful, scrunching her eight-year-old face adorably. “Really?” She glanced around the other children who had stopped their own planting to look at Caroline curiously.

                  Caroline realized that all of the children’s chatter had died off and their innocent, dirt-streaked faces were watching her intently. She smiled, thinking that at this rate, the community garden project was never getting completed, but she couldn’t pass up an opportunity to entertain the kids with an exciting story. “Ancient civilizations like the Greeks enjoyed telling myths about how certain things came to be. This story is about a great hero named _Achemorus_. He was the son of a humble seamstress and lived in a village that was being attacked by a giant serpent. Despite the fact that he came from nothing, he did not let his circumstances tell him who he was. He wanted to be a brave warrior; therefore, he _behaved_ as a brave warrior. His mother made beautiful cloaks and traded one of her creations for a sturdy sword from a blacksmith. She gave the sword to her son and told him how much she believed in him. With his weapon in hand, Achemorus bravely fought the beast and he mortally wounded it.”

                  “Yeah!” cried out some of the children gleefully. “He got the snake!”

                  Caroline gave a small smile as she continued, “Achemorus watched the great creature as it suffered in agony and he realized that while the beast had been his enemy, he also respected its power. He moved quickly and gave the serpent a merciful death to end its pain. Unfortunately, Achemorus had been wounded in the battle as well and the gods knew that he would not survive. To reward him for bravely defending his village and being respectful even to one he considered an enemy, wherever the hero’s blood pooled on the earth, a new plant named _parsley_ grew. In sporting events held in his honor, the winners were crowned with wreaths made of parsley. The wreaths were considered good luck and could be used to ward off bad spirits.”   

                  “I’m gonna be a hero,” shouted one boy who began wielding an imaginary sword in his glove-covered hands, scattering potting soil in a circle as he twirled.

                  Caroline laughed and said, “ _All_ of you can be heroes just as soon as I give you your crowns.” She pulled out a canvas sack and smiled as the children gathered around her, jumping up and down eagerly as she began handing out parsley wreaths and placed them gently on their heads. She clapped her hands to get their attention and began breaking the children up into smaller groups to go work in different parts of the lot to finish planting the rest of the vegetables.

                  “Caroline,” Hope asked hesitantly, “who will take care of the garden after we leave?”

                  “Everyone will,” Caroline said confidently, bending down to grab a small bay laurel shrub. “We’re planting the vegetable garden for this neighborhood, and everyone has pledged to help maintain it.” She pointed to the clusters of people joining the children at the planters. “The neighbors appreciate our help and they want it to be a success. If this project goes well, we should be able to start similar projects in other neighborhoods around New Orleans.”

                  Hope smiled shyly, “Will you let me help with those projects too?” She played with the edges of her wreath and added, “And can there be crowns there too?”

                  She laughed, squeezing the girl’s hand. “Of course! Gardening with a crown is a must. I do all of my best work while wearing a crown.”

                  “How droll. If only all of life’s problems could be dealt with so effortlessly,” a dry voice intoned behind them. “Such cheerful optimism and faith in humanity despite _generations_ of experience to the contrary is both refreshing and perplexing.”

                  “Hi, Uncle Elijah,” Hope grinned.

                  Caroline turned to face Elijah, noting his dour expression warily. “Elijah,” she said lightly. “I see you’ve arrived a bit early to pick up Hope. Perhaps you and I could chat for a moment while Hope finishes up?” Without waiting for his undoubtedly surly reply, she placed the bay laurel in Hope’s eager hands and said sweetly, “Honey, go ahead and bring this laurel to that corner way over there and help plant it along the border with the others. When you’re finished, I can tell you all about a nymph named Daphne who used her amazing abilities at hide and seek to teach a pompous, insecure jerk a lesson about misjudging someone.”

                  Elijah raised an eyebrow as he watched Hope’s retreating figure. “My niece is filled with innocence and a loving nature. As my brother possesses neither of those qualities, I can only assume that this can be attributed to your presence in her life.”

                  Caroline folded her arms in front of her, gazing at the perturbed Original vampire critically. Over the years, she and Elijah had maintained a cordial relationship, but were not particularly close; it was difficult to establish a relationship with someone perpetually closed off and who took his existence so seriously. She rolled her eyes in annoyance. “I can tell by the foul mood that you’re moments away from bronzing that stick up your ass. What’s wrong?”  

                  He sighed dramatically. “Nothing more than Niklaus slaughtering those we should be negotiating with once again. At the merest whisper of difficulty, his reckless, impulsive nature has led him to murder one of the most powerful dyad families. They were an entire generation of royalty and an important ally of ours!” He pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation. “Niklaus has associated with you for years now and I had thought your positive influence would have taught him compassion and love. What a pity he’s not a terribly apt pupil.”

                  Caroline bristled at Elijah’s accusations and coldly said, “Those _whispers_ in Klaus’ ear you harshly judge are _mine_. I discovered that the dyad family currently in power was attempting to resurrect the white oak tree species. Those deceitful forest spirits had sought the assistance of a shaman associate of mine and were certain that once they successfully grew saplings, they would make their move and rally all of the Original vampires’ enemies to their cause.” She narrowed her blue eyes in anger. “Therefore, I advised Klaus of this _difficulty_ so that he could take the necessary action to protect his family and the fragile peace of his kingdom.”

                  She noted the astonishment on Elijah’s face and stepped closer to him, the fury in her voice evident. “Furthermore, the compassion and love that you find absent within Klaus has been a part of him _long_ before he met me and my _influence_. He once told me that you took a witch as your lover.”

                  “Celeste,” Elijah said gruffly, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Do not speak of her. You know _nothing_ of Klaus’ spiteful, irrational actions,” he said harshly.

        She cocked her head and inquired mockingly, “ _I_ know nothing? Allow me to enlighten you with my paltry knowledge, then.” She paused to gesture toward the remaining stack of planters a group of volunteers needed to complete their portion of the garden. Once they left, she continued. “Klaus admitted to me that while at the time he failed to comprehend your emotional attachment to another, he saw no harm in it and left you to what he considered a frivolous infatuation. Furthermore, his mind was occupied with matching wits with an unusually resilient werewolf pack that was hell-bent on challenging your family’s authority to rule the city.”

                  Elijah waved his hand impatiently. “Yes, I recall they were cleverer than we originally credited them; they outmaneuvered us politically on more than one occasion before we were able to put a stop to it once and for all. But I fail to see how —”

                  Caroline spat out the words as though their mere formation left a sour taste in her mouth. “Yes, you did _fail_ , Elijah. Had you not been so blinded by your passion, you would have realized how suspiciously _well-informed_ the werewolves were. Klaus had his suspicions, you see, but didn’t want to trouble you unnecessarily if his assumption proved false. He followed Celeste and learned that she not only had formed an alliance with the rogue werewolves, but also had been placed directly in your path to spy on you and your family. Had this been the extent of her crimes, Klaus might have been persuaded to be lenient, for you, his _beloved_ brother.”   

                  Her eyes glittered frostily as she continued, “But Celeste’s betrayal went further. You shamefully compromised the safety of your family when you told her of Mikael and his relentless pursuit. On the evening that she ventured to the werewolves’ lair to share with them the name that could be your family’s undoing, Klaus killed her as well as the werewolves and anyone else privy to your family’s closely guarded secret. While you were off inventing _Masterpiece Theater_ or some other pursuit worthy of the _noble_ Elijah Mikaelson, Klaus was keeping your family safe.” She paused to delight in the sudden paleness of Elijah’s face as he absorbed her revelation. “You know, I asked Klaus why he would dispatch Celeste without telling you the true reason, and he said, ‘Because I would rather my brother hate me than hate himself.’”   

                  Elijah struggled to regain his composure as he stuttered, “Why Niklaus would let me think…I, I would have destroyed her for betraying our family…”

                  Caroline shrugged and replied acidly, “Perhaps Klaus understands the _burden_ of compassion and love far better than you or I. But what do I know? I’m not the _apt pupil_ that Klaus is.”

 

 


	7. A Wrinkle in Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be told in reverse chronology. As with any epic girls’ night, I think this is the best method to capture the disjointed, hilarious, and often bizarre hijinks that seem to accompany a proper night out with girlfriends. So, depending on whether you’re fond of that type of storytelling, you may want to start reading from the bottom up or from the top down. Also, the “folding the earth” idea came from an episode of Lost Girl. It was such an awesome idea that I’m thoroughly depressed I didn’t think of it first. The bison poop is all me though. :)

“A straight line is not the shortest distance between two points.”   
― Madeleine L'Engle, _A Wrinkle in Time_

* * *

 

**11:32 PM:**

                  They all raised their hands in the air when the police officers found them kneeling beside the massive, hairy bison. They wore similar looks of disdain as the officers stared down at Caroline, Rebekah and Bonnie. “Keep your hands where we can see them,” one of the men called out. He shook his head angrily. “I’ve seen a lot in my day, but three grown women out here molesting bison takes the cake.”

                  Offended, Caroline immediately spoke up, “We’re not perverts.” She nodded her head in Bonnie’s direction, “Well, Bon is a food perv. And utensils perv. And small kitchen equipment perv.”

                  Rebekah leaned near Caroline’s ear and said, “I’m telling Marcel you said his equipment was small.”

                  A wide smile graced Bonnie’s face despite their current predicament. “You’d better back off, Caroline. Klaus accidentally told me _all_ about the hand mixer incident.”

* * *

**11:31 PM:**

                  So…that happened.

* * *

**11:30 PM:**

                  It turns out that a 2,000-pound, hairy behemoth not only can chase three shrieking women across a prairie at alarming speeds, but it also corners like a racecar. After a particularly long sprint in which Bonnie miraculously managed to avoid breaking an ankle in her stilettoes, they had calmed down enough to recall that they were immortal, fairly indestructible, and counted amongst their ranks superior Original vampire strength and tremendous voodoo powers. Caroline managed to subdue the bison with an embarrassingly easy charm and they all swore to never speak of the past 30 minutes again.

                  Eyeing the beast warily, Rebekah asked, “How do you propose we retrieve the pocket watch?”

                  Pushing back her sweaty black strands, Bonnie argued, “What’s the point? It ate it. There’s probably nothing left to salvage.”

                  Caroline, still trying to catch her breath, replied, “We never heard a crunch, so it’s fairly safe to assume it’s intact.” She glanced down at her own watch, groaning in disbelief. “Unfortunately, we don’t have time to follow behind this thing with a bag. I can do a spell that will have similar effects to an enema and shouldn’t harm the animal or damage the pocket watch. I think that’s our best option.”

                  Bonnie folded her arms defiantly. “Our _best_ option is for you to administer mental ex-lax to this thing?”

                  Caroline rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Well, I guess the other option is for you to stick your hand up there and start mining for gold. I’m sure such a _docile_ creature will enjoy the slight tickle.” Caroline glanced at both of her companions, noting the disgusted looks on their faces. When no one seemed to have a better solution, she quickly muttered the incantation and everyone leapt back at the last minute, realizing they were potentially standing in a “splash zone”.

                  As the trio stared in revulsion at the alarmingly large, steaming pile, absolute terror set in as they realized someone would still have to go _prospecting_. 

* * *

**11:00 PM:**

                  “Seriously, Bon? A little warning would be nice,” Caroline said resentfully.

                  Bonnie was breathing hard as she rested her hands on her knees, trying to overcome her dizziness. “What? Bex had the watch, so I figured I could just pop us back home. Plus, if I did it unexpectedly, there would be less whining.”

                  “ _Pop_ us back?! Bollocks,” Rebekah shook her head angrily. She glanced around the area, trying to get her bearings. They were standing in an open prairie as far as she could tell; the darkness that surrounded them didn’t reveal much detail. She glanced down at the long metal trough beside them. “Maybe we stumbled onto a cattle ranch?”

                  “Perhaps,” Caroline said in an oddly nervous tone, carefully taking a step back. “But it’s one that’s housing more than just cows,” she added, glancing over Rebekah’s shoulder.

                  “What are you talking abo —” Rebekah stopped suddenly as she turned around to come face-to-face with a massive horned beast covered in thick, wiry fur. Shrieking at the top of her lungs, she accidentally dropped the pocket watch into the grain-filled trough as she raced to stand behind Caroline and Bonnie.

                  Bonnie groaned loudly, stomping her feet, which only resulted in solidly anchoring her stilettos into the soft prairie ground. “You dropped the watch! How do you just _drop_ the watch after all we went through to steal it?!”

                  Rebekah’s eyes flashed dangerously as she retorted, “How was I to anticipate your bumbling incompetence would land me in the lap of a huge buffalo?!”

                  “I think it’s a _bison_. Well, I guess either is acceptable, but _bison_ is the scientific term,” Caroline said thoughtfully, studying the creature that was easily six feet tall. “You know, this animal was a staple of the native peoples, a key to their survival, and they gave it many names like _tatanka_ and —”

                  “Are you kidding me right now, _Dances with Wolves_? Can we focus on the fact that the _tatanka_ is eating the pocket watch,” Bonnie yelled in irritation.

                  The girls’ loud arguing finally gained the attention of the beast and it stopped eating to look at them, curved horns poking out of its massive head. As it carefully considered them, it suddenly raised its tail straight into the night air. “That — that’s probably a significant gesture,” Rebekah said faintly, clutching Bonnie and Caroline’s shoulders.

                  Caroline shouted, “Run!”

* * *

**10:00 PM:**

                  Caroline groaned as she saw Klaus’ name appear on her phone. Because she knew he would keep calling incessantly until she answered, she went ahead and took the time to stretch her back thoroughly, allowing the vertebrae to pop satisfactorily back in place. The side effects of folding were a chiropractor’s wet dream. Once she finished her leisurely stretches, she swiped across the screen to answer his call.

                  His carefully controlled voice did nothing to disguise his concern. “Mind telling me why multiple hybrids have spotted you, Rebekah and Bonnie in Papua New Guinea, Sri Lanka, Nigeria, Portugal, Minnesota, and finally bloody North Dakota of all places in the past hour when I seem to recall you telling me that girls’ night was taking place at Bonnie’s residence, love?”

                  Caroline exchanged long-suffering glances with Rebekah before she huffily explained, “Because apparently ‘easy fix’ when invoking traveling spells actually means visiting four countries and two different states in one hour.”

                  “Caroline,” he growled, “I expect a more thorough explanation, sweetheart.”

                  “So, funny story —”

                  He cut her off with an exasperated sigh, “Is this going to be Marisa Tomei’s Oscar all over again?’

                  “No,” Caroline said defensively, “and even if it was, when I told you that _completely confidential_ story, you agreed with me that Vanessa Redgrave was robbed! No way does _My Cousin Vinny_ trump _Howards End_! I was simply righting a grave injustice.” She noticed Bonnie staring impatiently at her watch while Rebekah was studying the tall red brick building in front of them. Her voice softened as she continued, “I promise everyone is fine. We looked after each other and I promise we’ll continue to do so. There’s a _project_ we’re in the middle of, but we’re almost finished. Yes, we’re in North Dakota at the moment, but I promise we’ll be home soon.”

                  His voice was uncharacteristically strained as he quietly implored, “Your promise, love?”

                  “I promise,” she solemnly pledged.

                  “Then I bid you good luck on your _project_ and safe travels, my love,” he whispered, ending their call.

                  Caroline had a soppy smile stretched across her face until she noted the impatience of her cohorts. Frowning, she grumpily said, “Okay, so we’re finally here at the museum. What’s the plan?”

                  Eagerly, Bonnie stepped forward. “First, we will need to freeze the security cameras using our voodoo mojo. I’m thinking maybe a variation of the dragon’s box or a restructured Yucatan sling charm. Then, we need to carefully open one of the side entrances because they’re less likely to be heavily guarded. Now, once inside, we’ll need to create a small distraction while we pinpoint guard post locations and personnel.” Her green eyes glittered as she continued, “It might be risky, so perhaps we should consider the basement or roof access points instead. In fact, we could map out —”

                  Caroline rolled her eyes and moved to the glass front door. With a single index finger, the door easily swung open. “Or, we could check the front door and see if one of the grad school interns accidentally left it unlocked.” She narrowed her blue gaze at Bonnie and added, “No more _Leverage_ reruns for you.”

                  Rebekah groaned unexpectedly. “Bloody hell! Is that why Marcel was suddenly so keen to roleplay sexy thief and witty computer hacker?”    

                  Shuddering slightly from the unwanted images Rebekah had invoked, Caroline led the group into the lobby where they found a solitary elderly security guard sound asleep, snoring loudly at his desk. Shaking their heads, they didn’t bother being cautious with their footsteps and instead walked normally across the tile floors, Bonnie’s stilettos loudly echoing throughout the space. Finally, they located the pocket watch in a glass display case, its enameled surface sparkling under the recessed lighting.

                  “Qui Plantavit Curabit,” Bonnie read in a hushed voice, admiring the gleaming gold finish.

                  “Anyone who bothers to plant something will take care of it,” Caroline translated with reverence. She turned to Rebekah and surprised her with a fierce hug. “Oh Bex, you were right — this is the perfect gift to mark Remy’s graduation. It’s so perfect, in fact, I’m willing to overlook my squeamishness about the moral implications of stealing.”

                  “Think of it as _liberating_ , Caroline. And if later on, the questionable morality of the thing disturbs your slumber, just remember you were under extreme duress because your godson is growing up,” Rebekah said with a smile as she easily snapped the lock on the case and grabbed the pocket watch.

                  Before Caroline could respond, the world around them seemed to give a great shudder and they found themselves unexpectedly swallowed into another fold.

* * *

**9:01 PM:**

                  They stood in an overgrown field, blinking in disbelief at a solid bank of mangroves. As they slowly regained their bearings from experiencing a fold, they tried to ignore the pounding headaches and nausea that always accompanies that spell.

                  “You know, North Dakota is a bit greener than I would have imagined, Bon,” Caroline wryly said, rubbing her forehead and wincing.

                  Rebekah immediately pulled out her phone and started waiving it above her head in wide arcs. “As soon as I can get a signal on this thing, I’ll consult MapQuest.”

                  “Seriously? You might as well consult an astrolabe,” Caroline mocked.

                  Bonnie remained hopeful as she reassured them, “It’s fine. We’ll just figure out where we are and I’ll be able to realign us.” She looked over her shoulder worriedly as she saw a large group of natives head their way, decked out in traditional tree bark and grass dresses with feathers. They were singing and dancing as they made their way to a large bonfire in the center of the field.

                  The girls immediately crouched down, but Caroline whispered excitedly, “It’s okay — I know where we are. They’re wearing traditional costumes accented with bird of paradise feathers — the bird on their national flag. Also, it’s May, so this must be the Tumbuna Sing-sing celebration. We’re in Papua New Guinea.”

                  “Papua New Guinea?! Bon, how in the hell did you overshoot us this far? We’re in the southwestern Pacific; you were supposed to be aiming for the upper Midwestern United States,” Rebekah hissed angrily.

                  Bonnie retorted through gritted teeth, “Can we please focus on the fact that we’re crouching behind some tall grass in an open field full of headhunting cannibals? Although, I am a bit curious about how Caroline randomly knew that flag crap.”

                  Caroline shrugged, looking curiously at the ongoing festivities. “Actually, openly practicing headhunters and cannibals pretty much ceased by the early 1950s.” She saw her companions’ curious stares and continued, “What? I caught something about it on the History Channel while I was waiting for _Ancient Aliens_ to come on. And you know I never miss an episode of the _Big Bang Theory_ when Sheldon’s doing his ‘Fun with Flags’ show.”

                  Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Let’s get out of here.” She held up her hands and said reassuringly, “This is an easy fix.”   

* * *

**9:00 PM:**

                  “No. No way,” Caroline said with finality, folding her arms stubbornly. “This is a terrible idea, Bon!”

                  Bonnie sighed in irritation. “Stop being so dramatic. It’s practically foolproof. Bex says the pocket watch is on display in the Theodore Roosevelt Center at Dickinson State University. I can just do a fold and poof — we’re in North Dakota.”

                  “ _Do_ a fold? Do a fold?!” Caroline threw her hands in the air in aggravation. “Bon, you’re talking about actually _folding_ the earth to get us to our destination. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Yes, our coven made you immortal like me, but it’s only been a few years and you’re still acclimating to your powers.”

                  “It’s so not a big deal,” Bonnie said, running her fingers through her bobbed hair. “We just stand still and the earth is displaced. Instead of us going to North Dakota, we bring North Dakota to us. It’s gonna be so simple, especially now that I’ve got my immortal mojo on!”

                  “It’s cocky thinking like that that’ll get you burned at the stake,” Rebekah said wryly, elbowing Caroline good-naturedly.

                  Caroline rolled her eyes. “Need I remind you, the Bermuda Triangle is a _permanent_ fold that was created when an inexperienced, idiotic warlock attempted to do this spell?”

                  Rebekah threw back her head, long blonde hair dancing as she laughed. “You are so hard on men when they try to do magic! A bit overprotective of your craft, hmm?”

                  “I am not! Men can be naturally adept at some things, like um…” Caroline trailed off uncertainly.

                  Bonnie offered sarcastically, “Peeing on a wall?”

                  “Well, sure,” Caroline shrugged. “Although if there’s a good tailwind and a girl’s been practicing her yoga…” She shook her head, mumbling as she reached for her watermelon mojito and downed it in one gulp. “What the hell, Bon. Fold this bitch and prove me wrong.”

                  Bonnie grinned and rubbed her hands together in delight. “Trust me — this will be easy!”

* * *

**8:00 PM:**

                  Caroline arched an eyebrow skeptically. “Let me get this straight — rather than comforting me and allowing me to wallow in my sorrows because my godson is graduating high school and isn’t my little boy anymore — instead you want to use our girls’ night to _steal_ Teddy Roosevelt’s pocket watch from a museum. In North Dakota. In time for Remy’s graduation ceremony. Which is tomorrow morning.” 

                  Rebekah took another sip of her watermelon mojito, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes. But as I already explained, we won’t actually be stealing it. Technically, it was mine the second I won it from his daughter, Alice, in that poker game in 1890. Then, when I was ready to leave, that sneaky tart picked my pocket to snatch it back when she hugged me good-bye.” She smiled fondly, toying with the silly penis straw Bonnie insisted they use with every girls’ night cocktail. “You would have enjoyed her — she was a cheeky little thing and we always had a brilliant time. She’d wear these great big hats to hide her flask in and when she’d get plastered, she’d drape Emily Spinach about her shoulders and frighten the wankers that endlessly followed us around.”

                  Bonnie poured another drink before resettling comfortably in the squashy red chair. She asked amusedly, “And Emily Spinach was a euphemism for…?” 

                  Caroline interrupted, giggling. “Emily Spinach was a little green snake that Alice would carry in her purse. She entertained America with her zany stunts. The press couldn’t get enough of her. That little spitfire ended up becoming a leading political wit in D.C. One of her best-known quotes was about Teddy, ‘Father always wants to be the corpse at every funeral, the bride at every wedding, and the baby at every christening.’”

                  “You knew Alice,” Rebekah asked, mildly surprised.

                  “No, but Abby told me all about a trip Alice made down here to see her about a voodoo hex she wanted to place on the Tafts. Unfortunately, Abby was a huge fan of William Taft because of all of his work in the Philippines, from improving the local economy and giving Filipinos a voice in government affairs. She told Alice she wouldn’t help her and rumor has it that she ended up seeing a crackpot black-magic bokor that sold her a worthless doll that she planted on the White House lawn. Granted, Taft lost his bid to get re-elected, so perhaps she felt she got her money’s worth.”

                  Rebekah rolled her eyes at Caroline’s obvious disdain for bogus practitioners and said, “Getting back to my gift for Remy — the pocket watch is perfect. It’s emblazoned with the Roosevelt coat of arms and their motto, ‘Anyone who bothers to plant something will take care of it.’”

                  “The motto does underscore the values I’ve tried to instill in Remy,” Caroline grudgingly admitted. She clinked her glass tumbler against Rebekah’s and chastised, “Bex, you sly bitch, you knew that would get me on board!” The girls laughed together and poured another round. Caroline added, “Now how do you propose we get there?”

                  Bonnie smiled, her green eyes twinkling. “I have a plan.”

* * *

**7:00 PM:**

                 Rebekah set down her watermelon mojito and told Caroline and Bonnie excitedly, “I have the perfect idea for Remy’s graduation gift. Trust me — this will be fun!”

 

 


	8. The Gasps of Wrath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: We’ve had a bit of a dry spell lately, so I thought it would be nice to get back to my roots with some raunchy smut. You’re welcome. :)

“There ain't no sin and there ain't no virtue. There's just stuff people do.”   
― John Steinbeck, _The Grapes of Wrath_

* * *

                 

“Did you bring it?” Klaus asked impatiently, his steel gaze bore into hers as he sat across from Caroline.

“Of course,” she said shortly. “Did you think I would forget something so crucial?” She took a breath to steady herself. “Did you remember to bring yours?”

“It’s right here,” he said roughly, holding it tightly in his fist as he brought it to the scarred wooden table with a bang. His voice was strained as he added, “I don’t know that I can hold out much longer, love.”

“Good. Let’s begin then.” Caroline regarded him with her intense blue eyes. Jerking her head toward him, she commanded, “Your move.”

“Two,” Klaus called out tensely.

“Three,” Caroline replied, as she copied his movements.

They stared at each other silently, ignoring the noisy hum of the crowd all around them. Klaus finally broke the tension. “Well, that was interesting. Tell me, sweetheart, are you pleased with the results?”

She shrugged casually. “Depending on the next part of the ritual, we may be venturing into completely new territory or revisiting familiar old haunts.” She leaned across the table to scoop up the dice that showed a two and three.

Klaus took Caroline’s hand and pulled her to her feet, moving to a more secluded corner of the Old Point Bar. There in the shadows, they stood in front of a faded map of New Orleans, the paper marred with raised welts where beer had been carelessly spilled over the years. Grasping her firmly by the shoulders, he quickly spun her around in dizzying circles and then quickly released her.

Caroline giggled as she moved toward the map on wobbly legs. With a shaking arm, she managed to point at Alix Street. As she regained her balance, she said, “There you go. We’re heading to Alix Street and the address has to start with 23.”

He grabbed her hand and led her out of the ramshackle neighborhood bar, a fixture of the Algiers Point neighborhood and one of their favorite haunts. He smirked down at her and asked, “Shall I carry you?”

Chuckling, she shook her head. “It’s only four streets over; I think I can make it.”

“Nonsense, love. I guarantee you’ll need your strength,” he boasted, hoisting her onto his back before flashing them away into the night.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled all the way to their destination. Their game had been created out of a moment of boredom mixed with drinking. She had impishly said that she was certain they’d had sex in random places throughout at least half of New Orleans. Taking her comments as a challenge, Klaus had told her that they should see about conquering the other half. The rules were simple — the dice would determine the first part of the street number and randomly pointing at a map of the city would decide the street name. Caroline also had added ‘no compelling property owners to let them inside’ to their rules. Consequently, they’d been having a great deal of sex outdoors lately.

They arrived in front of a modest shotgun-style home painted a faded pink with white trim. They both wore eager grins on their faces when they saw the realtor sign in the front yard and Klaus detected no heartbeats inside. They had discovered by accident that if the property owners or other humans did not physically live at the residence they owned, a vampire could cross the threshold without an invitation. Briefly touching the realtor lockbox on the door, Caroline used a simple spell to secure the key and Klaus eagerly pulled her inside.

She glanced around in irritation, noticing the house was completely devoid of furniture. Then, she spied a tall window topped with a cast iron curtain rod. Cocking her head to the side, she debated how sturdy it was. Klaus picked up on her curiosity immediately and flashed her to the window with a smirk. He caressed one of the scroll finials and gazed down at her, noting her how her breath had quickened. “Care to experiment with tensile strength, love?”

Caroline smiled and said, “I doubt it could withstand hybrid strength.”

“Nonsense — we just need to find you a secure anchor,” he replied, lifting her up until she could grasp the rod firmly.

“Anchor? What do you mean, anch —” She started to ask, until he wrapped her legs firmly around his face, momentarily shocking her into silence.    

Flashing her a devilish grin, he slowly inched up the hem of her paisley sundress, delighting in how her thigh muscles jumped at his insistent touch. He bent his head slightly, unsheathing his fangs and delicately dipping one sharp point underneath her silk charmeuse panties. With a practiced jerk, the fabric split neatly around his fangs, exposing her beautiful, shell-pink flesh to him. “I need to spread you, sweetheart,” he cooed seductively. Without waiting for her reply, he grasped her ass firmly in both hands, pulling her center to his warm, wet mouth. He traced his talented tongue across her folds, outlining the sensitive flesh and delighting in the exquisite quivering he ignited.

Caroline gave herself over to the delicious sensations, clenching the iron tightly, despite the fact that her weight was comfortably supported by his strong shoulders. She impatiently bucked her thighs toward him, letting out a sigh of relief as his sinfully long tongue made its way to her dripping center. He thrust harshly within her, working his tongue through every part of her, lapping at the heated desire he discovered. She tightened her legs around his head, unable to stand the idea that there could be any space between them.

Klaus growled against her twitching flesh and whispered hoarsely, “That’s it, love, rub your intoxicating scent on me; mark me as yours.”

“Will you do the same,” she asked breathlessly. “Grind your delicious fragrance into my skin?”

He smirked against her thigh, dipping a teasing finger into her depths. “I will have you, dear Caroline. I shall polish your delectable body with my essence until it shines.” He bent forward and roughly bit down on her clit, causing her to wildly thrash her hips. His eyes flashed golden as he continued his sweet torture, nibbling at her sensitive little button and tasting her desperate need for him. His own body was throbbing to the point of distraction and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. Grasping her body tightly, he pulled her down from his shoulders and spun her around to face the window. He chuckled at how wobbly his ministrations had rendered her sexy ivory legs. “All right there, love,” he impishly asked.

Blue eyes flashing, she gazed over her shoulder at her hybrid lover and commanded darkly, “Love me. _Have me_. _Mark me_.”

Klaus could barely contain his groan as he pushed down his jeans and replied, “My pleasure.” He bunched up the teal material of her dress once more, exposing her beautiful pale cheeks. He placed a hand on the small of her back, gently pressing until she bent forward, resting her palms on either side of the window.

Her blazing gaze met his as she watched their reflection, panting in anticipation. She shivered at the initial feel of his rigid length against her flesh and she moaned as he lightly teased her opening. The delicious friction of his erection rubbed _so very close_ to where she needed it and it became too much to bear; whining in frustration, she wiggled her hips enticingly at him.

Klaus chuckled darkly, “You think you can rush this, sweetheart? Rush _me_? I will take you when it’s time. When _I_ deem you ready.” He suddenly began smacking her cheeks, alternating between light and more firm strokes until her ass emitted a rosy glow underneath his firm hand. He reveled in the breathy sounds she made as she seemed caught between trying to run from his punishing fingers and yet moving closer to the discipline she seemed to secretly crave this evening. Her dilemma heightened her arousal and sent his hybrid senses into overload.

Caroline threw back her blonde head, moaning loudly. The sharp sting accompanied by soothing strokes delivered by the same rough hand was not precisely what she craved, but in that sensual moment it was perfectly aligned with what her body needed. Regardless of his other traits, Klaus was an artist, and he always transformed her body into a beautiful work of art, drawing out her pleasure in a seductive, spinning wheel of emotions that flowed easily between aching and belonging.

Taunted by her sexy moans, Klaus dipped his fingers within her quivering channel, groaning at the slick heat he found there. He quickly coated his engorged member with her tangy essence, pumping his rigid length between his palms before plunging back into her with a contented sigh. He gripped her curves tightly, rubbing her beautiful body as she began to spasm beneath his familiar touch. His thrusts were sharp and smooth, taking his pleasure but also giving Caroline her own.

She felt the familiar tightening of her core as she squeezed every inch of her lover, craving their deep-rooted connection. Her body hummed with excitement as she reached her satisfying finish, crying out his name as she writhed beneath his powerful body. Just as she reached her peak, Klaus withdrew from her with a grunt, grasping his dripping cock in his hands and rubbing his sensitive head across her tempting cleft, parting the cheeks to ensure he thoroughly marked her flushed skin with his scent.

Klaus draped his body over hers, allowing her to prop up their sweaty, heaving bodies with her arms still braced on both sides of the window. He hugged her tightly, curling his body into hers as they regained their breath. “You are exquisite, my love,” he huffed, kissing her temple tenderly.

Caroline smiled as she gazed at their reflection, two passionate souls fresh from renewing their bond. “And you are extraordinary.” She squeezed his hand and then wrinkled her brow, adding “and extraordinarily heavy,” before wriggling out from underneath him. They put themselves back together, playfully nipping and swatting each other as they exited the house.

An unexpected call from Elijah had Klaus grumbling about young, upstart vampires crossing the river to wreak havoc and other trivial matters of ruling a kingdom. Unfortunately, his brother thought his presence at the new vampires’ lair would instill the proper amount of fear and decorum the situation required; therefore, Klaus grudgingly agreed to meet Elijah near Gretna rather than wait to resolve the matter tomorrow. He walked Caroline back to the Canal Street Ferry and kissed her senseless under the stars before flashing off into the night.

Caroline leaned against the deck rail, quietly waiting for the ferry and watching the Mississippi stretch a seductive black ribbon across the horizon. She marveled at the magnificent beauty of the city’s lights dancing upon the rippled surface.

A sinister voice sliced through the peaceful evening air, startling her as it dropped a greeting into her ear. “Hello, Caroline.” Before she could turn to face her assailant, she felt a sharp pinch and her vision blurred. A leering grin was the last thing she registered as she collapsed to the deck.


	9. A Moronic Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully everyone will be surprised (and hopefully amused) by the revelation in this chapter. You may wish to re-read Chapters 4 and 11 of Conjuring a Heart for applicable background information.

"I can think of no one objection that will possibly be raised against this proposal." — Johnathan Swift, _A Modest Proposal_

 

* * *

 

        

Caroline blinked fuzzily as she came to, facing a rock wall lined with dust- and cobweb-covered human skulls. Everything was bathed in a dull red glow from carefully placed stage lights. As her vision cleared, she critically stared at the bones, the grimace of horror in the throes of painful death nearly identical for each. She scoffed, shaking her head. _They weren’t real._ The skulls weren’t a serial killer’s terrifying trophies, fresh out of a mass grave; they were fresh out of a Target bag. She craned her neck and groaned when she saw the heavy chains hung from the metal rafters to outline a giant spider web. She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she realized where she had been taken.        

“Caroline, you’re up,” called out an eager voice. A figure flashed over to her, stumbling slightly as he stopped abruptly. “I — I mean, I’m so pleased you’re awake, my beautiful one,” the voice stammered uncertainly.        

She studied the middle-aged man before her, trying to place him. She knew he had taken her to that icky dungeon in the Warehouse District the sad goths liked to frequent. _Wait. No, it couldn’t be._ She eyed him critically, taking in his faded blue eyes. “Matt,” she asked incredulously.        

He nodded at her eagerly, a giant smile gracing his pale face. “You _do_ remember me!” He grimaced and said in a more casual voice, “I mean, of course you do. After all, the connection we shared is electric, is it not, love?”        

Caroline’s thoughts were racing as she recalled the brief few months she spent dating Matt all those years ago. He had been an innocent, sweet human, which she found very appealing. However, once he learned of her power and immortality, it had somehow tainted him and he made assumptions of her, believing that he needed to become dangerous to secure her affections. One of his more memorable, disastrous attempts had been to take her to this bizarre hipster dungeon where the comfortably medicated and hopelessly delusional temporarily shed their Burberry and Tom Ford and embraced chains and leather. From the stylish designer couches parked next to the contrived graffiti-inspired artwork, clearly not much had changed with the place.

She remembered how Matt kept trying to somehow prove to her how compatible they were, and one night, he picked a fight with some vampires outside of Rousseau’s. Fortunately, Marcel had been present that night and delivered an unconscious, badly bruised Matt to her doorstep. Caroline refused to watch Matt get hurt trying so desperately to change himself into someone she didn’t recognize. Therefore, she made the heartbreaking decision to have Marcel compel him to forget all about her and to live a happy, human life. Based on his appearance, she estimated he was able to enjoy approximately 20 years without her. She sensed the change in him and knew he was now a vampire. She asked him curiously, “When were you turned, Matt?”

“A year ago. It’s my anniversary — the anniversary when I was turned and when I remembered you, sweetheart,” he said quickly, his reverent tone incredibly disturbing. “I don’t know how it happened exactly, but when I woke up, I was starving, but more importantly, I remembered Marcel taking away your memory. Once I figured out what I had become, I rushed over to see you, to let you know that I finally remembered you and all that we were!” His eyes darkened slightly and he scowled as he continued, “But then I saw you with _him_. I watched you together and knew I was right; the old, innocent, human me would _never_ have been enough for someone like you. But now I’m different and I’ve been watching you to learn exactly what you need.” He stood proudly before her, making grand, sweeping gestures to the length of his body. “I’ve carefully studied him and now I’ve transformed myself into what you desire,” He finished awkwardly, blushing furiously under her intense perusal.   

Caroline continued sitting on the cold stone floor in shock. She noticed that a wide circle of a chalky, powdery substance had been placed all around her, likely to act as a barrier. She blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Are — are you wearing black eyeliner?”

At Matt’s eager nod, she pursed her lips and nodded slowly. “I see. So apparently you think I’m dating Jack Sparrow.”

“Hey!” He flushed crimson and tried unsuccessfully to rest his mouth into a casual smirk. “I mean, that’s rather impolite, love.”

She cocked an eyebrow and asked, “What’s with the accent, Matt? You’re a former high school quarterback from Nebraska. I feel like I’m trapped in a Monty Python skit.”

He self-consciously tugged at his dangling necklaces, several of which glinted like cheap gumball machine trinkets in the hideously contrived stage lighting. “It’s Matthew,” he said in his normal voice. “Now that I have embraced my gloriously dark future, _Matthew_ is a name that everyone will fear.”

Ignoring him, Caroline tried to get more comfortable on the hard floor, moving her legs under her and tugging at the short hem of her sundress. She looked up suddenly as a thought stuck her. Squinting at his head, she asked, “Matt, did — did you _perm_ your hair?”

He crossed his arms and said defensively, “No!” Mumbling under his breath, he added, “And it’s _Matthew_.”

“Okay…Will you at least admit you colored your hair?”

“Why would you ask me that?” He nervously brushed at a curly lock, not quite meeting her calculating blue gaze.

“Because you look like Peter Brady.”

Matt suddenly lunged at her, hissing as black veins crawled across his face. He paused in confusion when his fangs failed to appear. He looked dumbly at Caroline, his mouth hanging open. Furrowing his blonde brows in confusion, he tentatively poked the roof of his mouth with an index finger, searching in vain for his missing fangs. When they refused to appear, he blushed warmly and muttered, “They don’t always come out when I want them to.”

Caroline nodded sympathetically and said, “I understand. It can happen to a lot of guys your age.” She shrugged her shoulders, reassuringly adding, “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He smiled triumphantly. “I knew it — you understand my darkness. I’m not looking for the cure. I’m not concerned with the sick amongst the pure. Let’s go dancing on the backs of the bruised.”

Her blue eyes widened comically. “That’s from ‘Head Like a Hole’. Did you seriously just try to pass off Nine Inch Nails lyrics like they were your original thoughts?”

He pouts, a persistent pink hue still staining his cheeks. “No!” At her look of utter disbelief, he huffs, “Maybe. I mean, only that band can understand the depraved depths a dark soul like me can reach.”

“Agreed. Only the truly diabolical would dye their hair Peter Brady-coal black and leave their eyebrows sun-kissed blonde.”

Flustered, Matt gently rubbed his eyebrows, mumbling, “It wasn’t supposed to go that dark. His hair is a darker blonde than mine, and it’s hard to match the color.” He shook his head, brightening slightly as he flashed over to a pretentious red velvet chaise lounge and flopped down on it, smiling at her. He picked up a sketchpad and said, “Now that we’re both immortal, we have all the time in the world for you to fall in love with me.” He bent his ridiculously permed head to the paper in front of him and began to draw. Noting her incredulous stare, he reddened once more and added shyly, “I’ve been practicing and have gotten a lot better. Art isn’t nearly as hard as _some_ people act like it is.”

A smug voice startled them. “Nice stick figure — are you playing Pictionary,” Klaus asked, appearing out of nowhere to lean over Matt’s shoulder.

Matt scrambled to his feet comically, squeaking. He flashed beside the circle that had been drawn around Caroline. He triumphantly held up one of his numerous necklaces and shouted, “Stay back; I’m warning you!” The familiar-looking oval locket emitted an unearthly glow amidst the bluntly colored lights. “I have the necklace Abby gave to Caroline, her most treasured possession. I had a witch spell the necklace to block her powers and soon she’ll fall in love with me and forget all about you!”

Klaus raised an eyebrow, steadily holding Caroline’s blue gaze as she slowly stood within the confines of the circle. Curiously, he seemed to relax, and casually flicked aside Matt’s sketchbook to stretch out on the lounge. “So it would seem. Tell me, what did your witch use to form the boundary circle around Caroline?”

Matt straightened his spine, throwing out his chest as he boasted, “I stole her mortar and pestle and had it ground into powder.”

Bonnie suddenly walked into the room, chuckling, “Oh _wow_ , are you in trouble.”

Confused, Matt replied, “I know it’s one of her most beloved possessions because she’s so dedicated to her craft, but I’ll replace it with a better one. A bigger one!”

Caroline loudly coughed as she glanced briefly back at Klaus, whose dimples deepened within his unapologetic grin. She averted her eyes and focused on Bonnie. “What are you doing here? It’s dangerous!”

Bonnie snorted. “Bitch, please. I’m not the one who got kidnapped by Peter Brady.”

Matt flashed to Bonnie, grabbing her roughly and hissing as his black veins reappeared. Unfortunately, his fangs malfunctioned once again. He groaned, throwing his head back in frustration as he continued to tightly grasp his would-be victim.

Bonnie looked around the irritated vampire to call out to Caroline, “Why is he having performance issues?”

Caroline shrugged, trying not to giggle. “I think it’s like having a shy bladder. Maybe if we all turn around, he’ll be able to?”

At Bonnie’s resulting laughter, Matt moved his hands to her neck, roughly squeezing. However, before he could do any real damage, Elijah appeared in the room, twisting his head around with a satisfying crack. He caught Bonnie as she fell forward, holding onto him gratefully. “I’ve got you,” he murmured soothingly.

Caroline rolled her eyes as she noticed Bonnie’s calculating look as she pretended to shiver and emphasize her fright to earn a rather stiff embrace from Elijah. She looked back at Klaus who slowly unfolded his magnificent frame as he rose from the chaise lounge.

“Tell me, love, at what point were you going to inform your rather enamored suitor that he had stolen a fake locket from you,” He asked, smirking as he lazily pulled the long silver chain from around his neck, revealing a twinkling, small oval locket.

Caroline smiled. “I’m comfortable with my enemies believing I would make the same mistake twice. They don’t need to know I’ve trusted my most valuable possession with you. It makes potential kidnappings much more manageable.” She raised her arms, gathering her magic to easily blow apart the weak boundary spell created from the remains of her mortar and pestle. As she lightly stepped out of the broken circle, she pulled Klaus into a searing kiss.

Bonnie groaned in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You could have escaped any time you wanted?”

Caroline broke her passionate kiss with Klaus, sheepishly facing her friend. “Yeah, sorry about that. It’s just there was nothing good on TV tonight.” She winked at Klaus and added, “Besides, we haven’t role-played in a while.” She cocked her head, studying him intently. “Is the city still standing after your predictable temper tantrum trying to find me?”

Klaus shrugged nonchalantly. “I may have destroyed a small shop.”

Bonnie called out, “And?”

He waived his hand impatiently, “Perhaps a whole block.” As Elijah raised a judgmental eyebrow, he said in exasperation, “Fine! Seven blocks.” He kissed the top of Caroline’s mussed blonde curls, mumbling, “And possibly the ferry.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, but before she could begin her lecture, she noticed that Matt was waking up. Klaus flashed to him, grabbing him by his neck. As he started to decapitate the bumbling vampire, Caroline stopped him.

“Wait,” she said, hurrying to his side and placing a gentle hand on his tense forearm. “He’s not necessarily evil.” She cast a sympathetic glance at Matt. “Just delusional and somewhat dim-witted. Can’t you just compel him instead?” 

Matt choked out, “You can’t make me forget her! I’m just like you now — only better!”

Caroline shook her head at her ex-boyfriend’s complete lack of survival instincts. “Seriously? You’re the Blockbuster Video in this scenario.”

Klaus sighed as he took in the sad little vampire before him. He turned to Caroline and said, “I suppose I can oblige you, sweetheart. It’s rather difficult to take a chap seriously when he’s wearing such a horrendous toupee.” He looked over to Elijah, who was still clumsily comforting Bonnie.

Elijah momentarily addressed his brother and offered, “It does slightly remind one of those brooms a chimney sweep would use.”

Smirking, Klaus quickly compelled Matt to completely forget about Caroline once more, and helpfully added that his first priority would be to shave his head. As the group walked out of the building, Klaus began humming a familiar tune. When he saw that he had caught Caroline’s attention, he said, “Help me, I broke apart my insides. Help me, I’ve got no soul to sell. Help me, the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself.” Flashing his dimples, he said matter-of-factly, “It’s my understanding, love, that this is the only music that is fit for my hopelessly dark soul.”


	10. The Taming of the View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this installment, you may want to refer to Chapters 2 and 15 in Conjuring a Heart for refresher background information on how Hayley fit (or didn’t) into this alternate universe I created.

“There's small choice in rotten apples.”   
― William Shakespeare, _The Taming of the Shrew_

 

* * *

 

“How come you don’t live with us?”

Caroline blinked rapidly at Hope’s incredibly blunt question. At thirteen, the girl was overflowing with the typical adolescent hormones and angst along with the formidable aggression of one in possession of the werewolf gene. “Why do you ask,” she carefully replied.

Hope shrugged her shoulders and shifted uncomfortably on the white bar stool. “I dunno. You guys have been together forever and so I just thought you’d be moved in with us by now.”

Caroline smiled at the girl’s concept of “forever”. She refilled their glasses with peach-raspberry tea and said, “When you’re immortal, notions like ‘forever’ are relative. Mostly because you literally have _forever_. When you grow up, Hope, you’ll find out that merging souls is infinitely easier than merging households.” She frowned when she thought back to the great Pier 1 debacle that nearly ruined last Christmas. Apparently, hybrid kings become quite huffy about inferior-quality accent pillows.

“That’s the other thing — I know Dad has offered to buy you a big house by us in the Garden District a couple of times now. Why didn’t you move?” Hope’s wide brown eyes searched Caroline’s for answers.

“Yes, he has,” Caroline smiled fondly, sipping her tea. “And I smack him upside his handsome head every time he does because I can take care of myself and his stubborn hybrid ass knows that. I have grown woman bills that I was paying long before he met me and I don’t need his help. I pay my own way.” She reached across the butcher block island to gently tug on one of the girl’s dark curls. “Then, I remember that he’s still not so great at expressing his feelings, so I kiss him on the cheek and tell him to spend his money on someone who needs it. And suddenly my elementary school has a computer lab and tennis courts.”

Hope scrunched her eyebrows together, deep in thought. “Okay, so it’s alright to accept some gifts from Dad but not others? Remember how last year Dad got you that big mortar and pestle for your birthday and you were so excited? You kept that gift, right?”

Caroline coughed, trying to fight down the blush that threatened to creep up her neck. “Yes, well, it’s just that I admired the, uh, fine craftsmanship. When you find a man that appreciates the same _craftsmanship_ as you, you’ll know he’s a keeper.”

Hope nodded slightly. “So you should find a boy that is into the same stuff as you or at least notices stuff you like?” Her eyes lit up as she recalled, “Like how Dad, uh, my other dad, buys Aunt Bonnie a new stand mixer whenever the motor burns out of her old one?” She scoffed and said disdainfully, “He should really stop being so cheap and get her a better brand so they won’t wear out so fast.”

Choking on her tea, Caroline sputtered, trying to rein in the laughter that threatened to burst forth. “You should definitely bring that up with Marcel and tell him that your Aunt Bonnie deserves a _much nicer motor_ that can handle her everyday wear and tear.”

Hope nodded and glanced around Caroline’s kitchen absentmindedly. “You know, I like that you’re all about my Dad but you’re not _all about him_ , you know? Like, he’s super powerful and scary sometimes but you’re like that too. And you have this cool life and friends but still make room for us.” She stood up and wandered over to the red brick fireplace in the corner and lightly touched a clay vase on the mantel. Deep in thought, she added, “You’ve been around a long time too. I mean, not like my dad, but for a while. So how come you’ve never gotten your own mansion like with your voodoo or whatever?”

Caroline laughed at Hope’s bold question. She couldn’t decide if her brazenness was inherited from Hayley or if it was all Klaus’ influence/fault. She carefully placed the glass dome lid back on the pedestal stand that held only a few remaining crumbs of the spectacular devil’s food donuts Bonnie had brought her earlier. She was certain the cayenne-Bavarian cream filling would haunt her dreams. “I have all the house I need. I have a kitchen big enough for my friends to come over and cook for me because they know of my dismal culinary talents. I have a couple of guest rooms for them to stay in for the night if things get too rowdy or for longer if life kicks them when they’re down. And I have a yard big enough to putter around in my garden.” She tucked a few frizzy blonde strands back into her messy bun and added, “I measure my wealth by the number of people I love. I don’t need or want for anything more.”   

“Oh.” Hope’s voice was suddenly very small as she trudged back to her bar stool and began fidgeting.

“You didn’t upset me,” Caroline said gently. “I always want you to feel like you can ask me anything. I don’t ever want you to feel afraid.”

The teenage girl gave her a hesitant smile and quietly said, “Thanks.”

Caroline’s blue eyes twinkled excitedly as she explained, “Now, one of the reasons why I called you over here today is to help me make my mother’s blackberry cobbler. We’re taking it over to a family I know that could use some cheering up. You know how bad I am at Betty Crocker stuff, so I’m relying on you to help me make this edible. The mother was laid off this week, so their family doesn’t need a cobbler with a biohazard label on it. But before we get to that, I have something for you.” Her voice faltered slightly as she continued. “Lately, I’ve noticed you’ve been asking all of us a lot of questions about your mother. I did something for you a long time ago and haven’t shown it to anyone.” She ducked down to root around on one of the lower shelves of the kitchen island and pulled out a large, faded hat box. She carefully set it in front of Hope and added, “Until now.”

Hope took in a shaky breath as though she somehow understood the importance of the box’s contents. With trembling fingers tipped in bubblegum pink nail polish, she opened the lid and breathed in the heady aroma that memories all seem to carry. She grasped a square glass bottle that was half-full of an aquamarine-tinted liquid. She removed the stopper and inhaled. “Coconuts. And maybe vanilla or lime? It’s like those fruity frozen drinks you guys mixed up for me when Aunt Bonnie and Aunt Bex came over here one night.” She huffed, adding, “You wouldn’t let me have any rum in mine though.” She took another careful sniff and asked uncertainly, “What is this?”

“It’s your mother’s perfume.” Caroline fought the tears that threatened to well up as she watched Hope delicately dab a pinky finger into the bottle and push the scent into her skin, inhaling and holding her breath for as long as she could.

The young girl gingerly set aside the bottle and looked inside the mauve hat box once more. She found a thin gold band that tightly clasped a tiger’s-eye stone. She slid it onto her ring finger, disappointed it was a little loose. She finally found a better fit on her index finger and gently touched the stone’s amber-flecked center. “This was hers too,” she asked quietly.

“Yes.” Caroline leaned forward to squeeze Hope’s hand. “The stone matches her eyes.” She sighed as she recalled that difficult day when she had traveled to the werewolf village to see Jackson. “After your mother’s death, I realized that you needed something to remember her by. You were so young; you wouldn’t have your own memories. I visited with Jackson and asked him if I could hang onto a couple of Hayley’s things for you.”

“Can you — would you tell me about her,” Hope asked hesitantly, nervously fiddling with Hayley’s ring.

Caroline paused. What she knew of Hayley was mostly secondhand and not especially flattering. When Hayley had first arrived in New Orleans, she built up a wild, carefree reputation that Caroline paid no mind to until she had to comfort a couple of werewolf friends whose relationships had ended because of her. In fact, the pack leader, Jackson, had even been engaged to one of Caroline’s friends before he decided to “trade up” to marry the supposed werewolf queen. Of course, once Caroline entered her life, it was to help protect Hope from Dahlia, and during that traumatic time, she never had the opportunity to get to know her before the werewolf was killed trying to protect her daughter. Caroline had to believe that Hayley would have shown a different face to Hope had she been given the opportunity.

She stood up to lean over the kitchen island and grabbed the remaining object from the box, a small fabric-covered scrapbook. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t given the chance to know your mother. So, after I finished my visit with Jackson, I stopped by the rest of the village and talked with the werewolves who did know her.” She placed the book in front of Hope and flipped it open, each page containing photos of her mother with some of the pack members or anecdotes and stories from those who wanted to ensure that Hope knew who her mother was. Caroline recalled that even though the werewolves had been grieving, they were eager to share their memories for Hope when she was ready to experience them.

“This is — it’s…” Hope trailed off, her warm brown eyes watering. She suddenly lunged toward Caroline, enveloping her in a hug over the scrapbook. She sniffed, her skinny arms shaking a bit as she clung to Caroline wordlessly.

“You’re welcome, honey,” Caroline’s voice was muffled by Hope’s unruly dark hair. They finally sat back down, chuckling while wiping away stray tears. They quietly flipped through the scrapbook, laughing when they came across Jackson’s messy handwriting that proclaimed “Hayley always smelled like a damn piña colada and I always thought I was at a Jimmy Buffett concert.”

Hope paused at one picture of Hayley clinking a beer bottle with two other women. “Oh wow, this must have been taken at Halloween, huh?”

Caroline managed to keep a straight face as she took in the miniscule outfits and agreed: “Must have been.”        


	11. Maybe Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may want to refer to Chapters 7 and 10 in this work for the inside jokes. I am anxious to hear your thoughts about this latest installment. 
> 
> Warning: Smutty times to be had...

“I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I'll go to it laughing.”   
― Herman Melville, _Moby-Dick_

 

* * *

 

The smooth satin of her dress was bunched at the top of her soft thighs, wrinkling it beyond recognition. They had yet to pose for pictures, but Caroline could not find the energy to be angry at Klaus, especially with his clever digits tapping a furious beat against her throbbing little button. She hissed as he slipped in two long fingers, curling them just right within her dripping heat. “God, you know just what I need,” she whispered against his ear, nibbling on his tender lobe.

“How appropriate, love,” Klaus murmured, pumping his hand in strong, short strokes against her parted thighs.

She rocked her hips, following the delicious rhythm he had set, wincing only slightly as her knees sharply hit the polished cherry of the pew. She reached down to fondle his burning erection through his black dress pants. She outlined his length, grinning against his powerful jaw as she felt his skin quiver at her playful touch. “Such an eager boy,” she murmured, halting the sinful movement of her hips to concentrate on his zipper.

“I’ll show you _boy_ ,” he growled as he impatiently pushed away her hands. He quickly freed his rock-hard flesh and pushed into her with one smooth thrust. “Does that feel like a mere _boy_ buried in your tight little cunt, sweetheart?"

Caroline swiveled her hips, gripping Klaus tightly as she met his powerful thrusts. She groaned in response, feeling the familiar, sweet ache that signaled she was about to come.

“No, my love,” he rumbled, gray eyes flashing golden, “not like that. I need to _taste_ your release. This is supposed to be _my_ delicious distraction.” He barely forced the words past his gritted teeth before he had yanked her from his soaked cock and pulled her trembling center toward his impatient tongue. She cried out as she reached her peak, his furious licking and swirling of her desire was her undoing.

As he slowly released her thighs and helped support her wobbly body as she tried to stand up, she caught his impressive length, still begging for attention. With a grin, she moved to her knees, gently resting her palms in his rumpled lap. “Your treat turned into my treat — perhaps you deserve another,” she murmured playfully, lightly smearing a trail of their combined fluids across his rosy tip.

“By all means,” Klaus said, panting slightly as he spread his strong thighs to accommodate Caroline’s slender frame as she leaned over his throbbing erection. She eased his soft skin into her warm mouth, massaging the sensitive head with her tongue. She bobbed up and down, swallowing around him, causing him to gasp and buck his hips toward the pleasantly tortuous sensation.

“That’s it, my love,” he sighed, sliding his calloused hand across her cheek. “Almost there,” he encouraged.

With a few well-placed pumps of her wrist, he spilled easily into her mouth; his eyes squeezed shut as he became lost in his private bliss.   

Organ music suddenly floated upstairs, beautifully accompanied by the soothing notes of a harp. As the notes reached their ears, it seemed to spur them both into action. Caroline quickly stood up, smoothing down her dress as best she could, frowning at the stubborn wrinkles. She glanced over at Klaus who was adjusting his dress pants, searching the cramped room for his tuxedo jacket. She stepped in front of him, reaching up with both hands to fix his bowtie that had gone slightly askew during their amorous activities. “Are you ready for this,” she asked quietly, noting the apprehension in his beautiful gray eyes.   

“Of course not. How can I be? I never thought this day would arrive,” he grumbled, running his fingers through his messy curls distractedly.  

“We’ve been through this,” she replied calmly, handing him his jacket. “It’s her choice,” she reminded him softly.

“Well, it’s the wrong choice,” he huffed impatiently. “Hope’s far too young to know what she wants.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “She’s 21, Klaus.” She sighed, brushing lint from his satin lapel. “I’ll admit I would feel better about all of this if she’d waited a few more years and had gotten to know him a little better…” she trailed off uncertainly.

“Precisely! She’s rushing into this marriage and will regret this idiotic choice,” Klaus rumbled, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “You have no idea how difficult this is; to watch your child be stubborn and insist upon foolish decisions.”

Caroline laughed, “Really? Because I seem to recall being in a similar situation about a decade ago when Remy was barely in college and decided to get married.” Her blue eyes flashed dangerously, “I recall you telling me that it was _no big deal_ and to let my godson _go be a man_.” She snorted derisively. “It turned out my instincts were right and that girl was no good for him. I’m curious, did going through a divorce his sophomore year in college turn him into a man?”

Klaus took a breath, his eyes tinged with gold as his wolf instincts were clearly urging him to continue arguing with Caroline. His shoulders suddenly slumped and he sighed dejectedly. “I cannot bear the thought of her being hurt. I fear that will happen if she pledges her heart to this boy.”

She visibly softened and pulled her hybrid into a tight embrace. She whispered in his ear. “I know, my love. But because we love her, we have to respect her choice.” As she pulled away, she grinned, her blue eyes twinkling mischievously. “And also because we love her, we’ll be there to subject that boy to an unholy level of terror the instant he makes her unhappy.”

Klaus smirked down at her, flashing his dimples. “I find your terms acceptable, sweetheart.”

Smiling, they exited the cathedral’s supply closet holding hands and were surprised to spy Bonnie leading a mildly embarrassed Marcel out of the office at the end of the hallway. As they approached, Caroline noted the state of their rumpled clothes and raised a questioning eyebrow at Bonnie.

“What,” Bonnie asked, shrugging her shoulders. “Marcel was feeling anxious so I decided to fuck the pre-wedding jitters out of him.”

“It didn’t work, did it,” Caroline asked knowingly as she squeezed Klaus’ hand.

“No, but that probably had more to do with Suity McSnooty walking in on us than anything else,” Bonnie responded in irritation. “God, he’s such a virgin.”

Klaus chuckled, “I think it was your choice of venue rather than your activities themselves Elijah would call into question.”

“Like you can talk,” Marcel retorted, clearly still flustered.

A melodic voice interrupted the group, “What are you guys doing up here? I’ve been looking everywhere!” The rustling of tulle and the clacking of heels soon followed. As Hope came into view, Caroline had to blink back tears that threatened to gather. Hope was a vision with her dark curls gathered into an elegant, simple twist and her warm brown eyes were full of mischief as she examined the wrinkled clothes and slightly sweaty complexions of the group before her. They all seemed to shuffle their feet guiltily under her critical gaze. “Never mind — I can guess what you’ve been up to,” Hope said dryly.

“Oh my god — did your uncle complain to you? Suity McSnooty’s a whiny tattletale in addition to being a repressed, judgey virgin,” Bonnie said in exasperation.

Caroline clapped loudly to garner everyone’s attention. “Seriously, let’s stop focusing on the formidable stick up Elijah’s ass and onto what matters — Hope.”

Hope grinned and said, “For the record, the stick up my ass is considerably more pliant.” At everyone’s disgusted expressions, she giggled, but then her impish smile disappeared as she clasped her hands in front of her, twiddling her fingers nervously as she added, “Before we go out there, I just wanted to say how much I love all of you.” She hugged everyone, trying to maneuver her delicate dress carefully as she was embraced enthusiastically. Wiping away a stray tear, she nodded after Bonnie and Marcel as they headed downstairs. She smiled brightly at Klaus and Caroline and said, “And thank you both for the incredibly thoughtful gift. Funding my dig site for another year in Guadalajara is beyond what I could have hoped for!”

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” Klaus said gruffly.

Hope sighed happily, “Everyone in this family has a knack for finding the perfect gift. Remy still brags about that famous pocket watch Caroline, Aunt Bex and Aunt Bonnie gave him.”

Caroline smiled weakly, squeezing Hope’s hand before following her down the stairs.

Klaus allowed Hope to get slightly ahead of them before leaning into Caroline’s ear to whisper, “Ah yes, the _infamous_ pocket watch. The _cherished artifact_ that once graced the pocket of a president. The _extravagant object_ that you three women hopped across multiple continents to steal that somehow inexplicably led to you mimicking a bison proctologist before getting arrested.”

She narrowed her blue eyes at him before hissing, “Yes.”

Dimples flashing, he cheekily said, “The pocket watch that turned out to be a reproduction.”

“No one likes a smug asshat,” Caroline grumbled. She kissed him on the cheek when they reached the bottom of the stairs and left him with Marcel and Hope. She and Bonnie hurriedly opened the heavy oak doors under the archway to join Rebekah and Elijah at the front of the cathedral. As she sat down, she glanced around the sumptuously decorated room and admired the gorgeous stained glass. Her thoughts drifted back to the conversation she had with Hope earlier that week.

_“How did you know that my father was the one?” Hope’s brown eyes burned fiercely as she waited for Caroline’s answer._

_“It was just a feeling I had. It was a simple spark and I think it happened instantly without my realizing it and certainly without my permission. By the time I understood its significance, I was caught and it grew into everything I had ever imagined but more than I dared ask,” Caroline replied, studying Hope carefully. “Are you — are you having doubts?”_

_Hope quickly shook her head. “No, of course not. I mean, it makes sense that we’d end up together. We’ve been friends for ages and his family has done business with ours for years. And he has the werewolf gene, so we have that in common.”_

_“Having things in common isn’t a solid reason for making this type of commitment,” Caroline said, her brows furrowed with concern._

_Hope waved her hand carelessly. “I know, I know. But we definitely have more than that. Dick is really intelligent and I love that I can discuss the socio-political issues that surround my dig sites and he understands what I’m talking about because of his experience helping with the international side of his family’s business.” As though sensing Caroline’s hesitation, she hurriedly added, “And we laugh together and are huge parts of each other’s lives.” She grinned and added, “Plus, we even appreciate the same_ craftsmanship _. You once told me all about the importance of_ compatible craftsmanship _. So we’re happy, okay?”_

_“Okay,” Caroline said soothingly, noticing that despite Hope’s joking demeanor, there was a slightly defensive tone. “That’s what counts — your happiness.”_

_Hope shook her head and huffed impatiently, “It’s just lately he’s been upset that I’m spending so much time studying, but I told him how important this double major in archaeology and biology was to me. He’s under a lot of pressure from his family and they’ve been expecting him to attend more business functions and charity events and I haven’t been able to go with him as often as he’d like.” She tugged on the ends of her dark curls in frustration, adding, “Plus, today he told me that we can’t go on the honeymoon that we planned months ago because his parents have surprised us with a cruise to the Bahamas and they’ll be really disappointed if we don’t go.” She rolled her eyes, a habit she had picked up from Caroline. “It had taken me months to get him to agree to evenly split our time between the resort in Mexico and the Olmec ruins. It was our first big compromise and I was really proud of that! And now, we’re going to tourist-trap Bahamas.”_

_Caroline had patted the girl’s hand soothingly. In a gentle tone she said, “I know you’ve faced some challenges with his parents wanting to be involved in the wedding plans.”_

_“That’s the other thing! When we were out with our friends for karaoke at Lucky’s Bar the other day, Dick told me that his mother didn’t like the music I selected to walk down the aisle to and wanted me to change it to the more traditional_ [ _Mendelssohn_ ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Felix_Mendelssohn) _'s ‘Wedding March’. I put my foot down and told him that he had to tell his mother that was just too bad because Lennon’s ‘Grow Old with Me’ is beautiful and wonderful and exactly what I wanted.” Hope had sniffed as her brown eyes had started to water. She gave Caroline a shaky smile. “I told him that he had let his mother take away practically all of our decisions about this wedding, but she wasn’t taking that one from me.” She shrugged and added, “He agreed and told me he’d take care of it.” She shuddered suddenly and said, “And then our night got super weird when this creepy old guy with a shaved head kept singing Nine Inch Nails songs.”_

_Caroline struggled to keep her face impassive. “Really?”_

_“Actually, the weird part was that he was using a truly awful British accent. Why would anyone do that,” Hope asked, scoffing._

_“I have no idea,” Caroline murmured, and then attempted to lighten the conversation. “So what you’re telling me, is that in addition to marrying a guy whose name is ‘Dick’, he also has mommy issues? I mean, most women could tackle the deep-rooted issues associated with male genital-worshipping names, but do you really want to add mommy issues to that mess?” She chuckled, “Be grateful no one gave you a genital-worshipping name.”_

_Hope wryly said, “Name one female genital-worshipping name.”_

_Caroline squinted and rattled off, “Vulvienne, Labiette, Cliticia…”_

_“Cheater! Those aren’t actually names!”_

_“Maybe not,” Caroline readily agreed, “But the next time your Aunt Bex ruins girls’ night by whining about Marcel, I’m tattooing ‘Cliticia’ to her forehead after she passes out.”_

_Hope snorted, but couldn’t contain herself and began laughing hysterically. When she finally managed to get her giggling under control, she quickly hugged Caroline and said, “Thank you for always knowing what to say.” She smirked and said, “You know, when I was a kid and I had problems, you would tell me a story about a great female historical figure or legend. Got anything like that today?”_

_Caroline thought a moment and said, “Okay, there was once a highly intelligent and respected woman named Hypatia. She was the head of the Platonist school in Alexandria around 400 A.D. She taught geometry, astronomy and philosophy and students traveled throughout the Roman Empire to learn from her. She became a woman of influence in intellectual and political circles from well-known philosophers to royalty. Throughout her life, suitors would offer her marriage and she would tell them, ‘As a philosopher, I am wedded to the truth.’’_

The organ music pulled Caroline from her thoughts and she eagerly stood with the rest of the wedding guests to watch Hope enter the room with both Marcel and Klaus escorting her down the aisle. She was momentarily distracted by how well Klaus could wear a tux and blushed a bit as she recalled their delightfully filthy interlude upstairs. As though he could hear her inappropriate thoughts, his steel gray eyes bore into hers and he treated her to a roguish wink as they walked by.

Caroline noticed how Hope’s expression curiously morphed from nervous happiness to irritation, and she couldn’t determine its cause until she realized that the music echoing throughout the chamber was most definitely not created by John Lennon. It appeared that Dick’s mother got her way after all.

Hope suddenly dug her heels into the hardwood, causing an unpleasant screeching noise that startled the musicians enough to abruptly stop playing. As Mendelssohn’s remaining notes ceased echoing throughout the room, she unlinked her arms from Klaus and Marcel’s and glared at the contrite groom at the end of the aisle.

Throwing down her simple bouquet of cornflowers, she yelled, “That’s it! As a philosopher, I’m wedded to the truth!” She spun around, hitched up her long skirts with both hands and marched right out of the cathedral, leaving behind a stunned and somewhat baffled audience in her wake.  


	12. Prude and Prejudice

“I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.”   
― Jane Austen, _Pride and Prejudice_

 

* * *

 

Her blue eyes sparkled with anticipation as she eagerly ripped through the silver wrapping paper and glittery ribbon that decorated her gift. She had a vague suspicion of what lay inside the box even before she saw the iconic sea shell insignia, patterned after the one featured in Botticelli's _Birth of Venus_. It announced that the treasure inside came from an exclusive boutique whose name was synonymous with discretion. She paused momentarily to trace an iridescent nail lovingly over the scalloped edges of the emblem. “Is this…” she trailed off in a hushed whisper, her blue eyes catching Klaus’ in a heated gaze.

“Open it and see,” Klaus smirked, rubbing his hands together in delight.

Squealing excitedly, Caroline removed the lid, anxious to get her first peek at her much-anticipated surprise. With twitching fingers, she hurriedly moved aside the delicate, perfumed tissue paper and looked upon…it. Blinking in confusion, she tried to form a coherent thought as she continued to stare dumbly at…it. She wasn’t sure what the appropriate protocol was for an occasion such as this.

As the awkward silence stretched between them, Klaus moved beside her to see what caused her puzzling reaction. He grasped the box from her hands and looked inside it, only to hastily drop it back onto the table. He quickly shouted, “That’s not mine!” An angry flush colored his cheeks as he realized how panicked his voice sounded. Trying to regain some semblance of dignity, he casually pushed the box to the furthest corner of the table. “I mean, _obviously_ , that couldn’t be my uh, it’s clearly an error with the manufacturer.”

Caroline rolled her eyes at his flustered explanation. “No kidding. After all these years, I’m well-acquainted with your _dimensions_ , Klaus. Feel free to unclench. Seriously.” She noticed his wary gaze still flicking toward the open box, so she hurriedly placed the lid back on. “The company sent us someone else’s order and we’ll deal with it tomorrow,” she said reassuringly. Grabbing his hand, she smiled brightly and added, “Come on, there’s a party going on downstairs with our name on it!”  

Together, they descended the spiral staircase and she kissed him firmly on the lips to reassure her hybrid once more before wandering over to the elegant buffet to magically “perk up” the drooping floral centerpieces. While chanting under her breath at an especially stubborn pink stargazer lily, she felt a presence at her back. Glancing behind her, she was surprised to see Elijah standing there, silently watching her spell-work. She nodded in his direction and said, “Elijah, I didn’t see you there. Are you enjoying the party?”

He stiffly replied, “Yes, you and Niklaus have outdone yourselves.” He surveyed the room with Caroline, his gaze flitting upon various groups before settling upon one boisterous group in particular. Well, one _affectionate_ couple in particular. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he added, “I wonder, Caroline, if you have ever taken the time to deeply ponder habanero peppers?”

She raised an eyebrow at this puzzling turn in the conversation. “Habanero peppers…hmm, I suppose, Elijah, that one’s feelings on the matter can be quite personal and should remain between that individual and their deity.” She grinned up at him and asked impishly, “Why do you ask?”

He scowled at her mocking tone and said in irritation, “Habanero peppers are a decidedly polarizing food. At first glance, they appear insignificant and are prone to being overlooked.” He clenched his fists as he ventured a glance at the couple in question before returning his attention to Caroline. “Then, most unexpectedly, one has the merest hint of a taste and it instantly sears itself into the senses, evoking a plethora of emotions, rendering escape from its wily grasp impossible.” 

She snorted. “You don’t need to warn me about the dangers of habaneros. Klaus and I conducted some rather ill-advised capsaicin experiments a while ago. We ended up spending the whole weekend soaking our squishy bits in a bathtub full of milk.” Her blue eyes lit up as she registered Elijah’s distaste at her penchant for oversharing.

Caroline followed his wandering gaze and finally registered that he was glaring at Marcel who was dancing rather closely with Bonnie. When Bonnie threw back her head, laughing hysterically at something Marcel had whispered in her ear, Elijah scowled.

“Seriously? Your bizarre fixation on habanero peppers is about Bonnie?” She shook her head in disbelief while waving her hand to make the last centerpiece of stubborn, wilted lilies disappear.

The tops of Elijah’s ears became pink as he muttered, “That vulgar witch with her confounding and blatant attempts at seduction plague my thoughts.”  

“I can see how being called _Suity McSnooty_ could be huge turn-on,” Caroline wryly stated.

He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. “She also cornered me and said that she was _willing to overlook the fact that I was a tattletale virgin_.”

Caroline smiled for a moment, but quickly stopped as she recalled what Bonnie told her had happened next. “And then when she set aside her typical exuberance and silly pride to tell you how she felt, you were _despicable_.” She shook her head as she remembered how Bonnie had come to her house a few months ago, clearly upset but refusing to talk until after her fourth glass of pinot when she told Caroline how Elijah had asked, _Are you quite mad? Putting aside your overbearing crudeness, I cannot possibly fathom a scenario in which we could comfortably advance our level of familiarity.”_ Then, a couple of traitorous tears had graced Bonnie’s cheeks and she quietly sat on Caroline’s deck sipping her wine and staring off into the distance for the rest of the evening.

The next day, Caroline had every intention of making that Masterpiece Theater-worshipping asshat pay dearly for those painful tears, but Bonnie had quietly asked her not to confront him. The embarrassment on her friend’s face was jarring in its unfamiliarity, and Caroline agreed to abide by Bonnie’s wishes. Until now. Since Elijah brought it up first, _all bets were off_.

In a quiet voice full of barely-controlled rage, she told him, “You cannot possibly comprehend what it has cost me to hold my peace after I found out what you said to Bonnie. “She was willing to let you past those walls of hers and you spewed such foul things at her. I suppose it’s a blessing you revealed your true self to her now before she became attached.” She chuckled darkly, “Like Maya Angelou says, _When someone shows you who they are, believe them_.”

Stunned, Elijah opened his mouth to speak, clearly searching for some eloquent defense of his behavior, but Caroline had been brooding about this for months and had memorized all of the things she wanted to say to this pathetic coward who hurt her cherished friend. “All of these decades we’ve spent together as an eccentric, loyal patchwork quilt of a family and you’ve never once bothered to get to know how wonderful Bonnie is,” she hissed at him, secretly delighted by the shame her words caused him. “You’ve missed your chance to get to know this generous spirit who was placed in our lives as a blessing _none_ of us deserve.”

As he attempted to interrupt her tirade, she pointed a finger in his direction, stepping closer to him to add, “You cannot fathom the endless list of selfless things this amazing creature does! Do you know that once a month, Bonnie performs a spell so she can understand the languages of animals and takes a trip to the animal shelter to try to reunite those lost souls with their families?” She scoffed, “You don’t even realize what you could have had with her, you CNN-stalking dick.”

Elijah cleared his throat, glancing about the room to see if anyone had noticed Caroline’s passionate diatribe. He seemed to relax slightly as he realized that between the loud music and the even noisier crows of people, no one was paying them any mind. He nodded curtly and replied somberly, “Just because I only have recently realized the depth of my affections does not make them any less sincere.” He ventured another glance at Bonnie, who was giggling as Marcel twirled her in dizzying circles around the room. “My regrettable words were a momentary lapse in judgment, an error I intend to rectify posthaste.”

As he squared his shoulders, confidently walking toward the oblivious couple, he called over his shoulder to wryly add, “And Caroline? Next time Niklaus decides to risk my wrath by obliterating our treaty with the wendigo clan because of his infantile temper, he really should take extra precautions not to leave his web browser open. It turns revenge into child’s play.”  

 

 

 

 


	13. Leaves of Sass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several references to Chapter 12 are made in this chapter, so you may wish to re-read. And the silly kind of got away from me in this one. Try to relax and go with it. :)

“Touch me, touch the palm of your hand to my body as I pass,  
Be not afraid of my body.”   
― Walt Whitman, _Leaves of Grass_

* * *

 

“Don't know how you do the voodoo that you do  
So well it's a spell, hell, makes me wanna shoop, shoop, shoop.”

― Salt 'n' Pepa, _Shoop_   


* * *

 

“Elijah’s missing? Are you sure,” Caroline asked, running her hands through her blonde curls distractedly. She was sitting in one of the pink and white barstools at Bonnie’s bakery, _The Underrated Sidekick_ , and had yet to find a way to calm down Bonnie.

“Yes,” Bonnie shouted as she continued frantically pacing across the tile floor, her heels beating out a furious tempo. She finally stopped in front of the gleaming countertop, resting her elbows on its pearlescent surface and kneading her forehead. “We finally hooked up here at the bakery three days ago and then I didn’t hear from him again, so I just figured he was avoiding me or something.” Her green eyes were troubled when she glanced at Caroline. “But then Klaus stopped by today because he hasn’t heard from Elijah either and thinks I was the last one to see him.”

Caroline hopped off of her barstool to pull Bonnie into a reassuring hug. “It’s going to be fine, Bon. We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to do a locator spell and when Klaus gets back from assembling his hybrid minions, we’ll head toward whatever incompetent evil thing has kidnapped Elijah, we’ll easily vanquish it, and then I will forever hold over Elijah’s head the fact that he is a helpless nitwit who needed to be rescued by me.” She grinned at Bonnie’s light chuckle and moved behind the counter to start assembling the spell ingredients. She began crumbling bay leaves into a shallow glass mixing bowl and asked, “So you guys hooked up, huh? Last I heard, you were still furious with him and I was furious-adjacent on your behalf. What changed?”

Bonnie gave her a small smile, tossing her a jar of black cumin seeds. “So you know how after your party two weeks ago, Elijah’s been showing interest in me? I was still really angry at him and didn’t want to listen to anything he had to say, but then one night, he tossed a bunch of pebbles at my apartment window and when I flicked open the latch to yell at him, he unfurled this big scroll with a flourish, grinning at me like a lunatic.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, relocating Bonnie’s carved folk art sculpture to a shelf so that it wouldn’t get splattered accidentally. “So Masterpiece Theater dressed up the scene from _Love Actually_ by using a scroll instead?”

“Not exactly,” Bonnie giggled. “He had written the lyrics to ‘Shoop’ on the scroll.”

“Seriously? Elijah sang Salt 'n' Pepa?”

Bonnie’s giggles had transformed into belly laughs as she explained, “No — that’s the best part. He recited it — like a sonnet! I swear, Caroline, you’ve never heard ‘Shoop’ until it’s been done Shakespearian-style!”

Caroline had to set down the glass bowl because she was laughing too hard. Finally catching her breath, she added, “Masterpiece Theater presents Shoopspeare!”

“You should have heard him say _the bow-legged one_ in his delicious accent!”

Caroline crowed, “No way! _Brother, wanna thank your mother for a butt like that_ had to have been the show-stopper!”

Bonnie slapped the counter, laughing hysterically. “He also politely asked me to explain to him _b-boy style_.” Bonnie wiped away a stray tear, trying to catch her breath and said hoarsely, “I asked him how he knew I even liked that song and he told me that he overheard you, me and Bex talking about one of our girls’ nights where we did Salt 'n' Pepa karaoke all evening and that I had refused to sing anything but “Shoop” because I apparently connected with the lyrics on a spiritual level.”

Caroline snorted. “As I recall, the only _spiritual connecting_ you were doing that night was with Ketel One and some lemon wedges.”

“Whatever, Miss Garth-Brooks-Is-The-Music-of-My-People.”

“Hey! I only become a closet country music lover when I’ve been drinking. Sometimes Ketel One takes you to dark places. And it’s part of the sacred friend pact that you carry all shameful karaoke moments to your grave, Bonnie Bennet,” Caroline said accusingly.

Bonnie’s smile falters as she gets a faraway look in her eye. She abruptly declared, “He’s going to be okay though. I mean, he’s an Original, and they’re practically indestructible,” she muttered, picking up a dried bundle of sage and setting it ablaze.

Caroline’s brow furrowed at her friend’s obvious worry. “Yes, he will be fine. Originals always are. After all, they have us to look out for them.” She added the strand of Elijah’s hair to the other spell ingredients and began chanting over the bowl while Bonnie wafted the sage smoke around the bakery. Gold sparks erupted from the container, traveling in dizzying circles around the room. Confused that the magical energy had completely bypassed the map of New Orleans that was supposed to be its conduit for communicating Elijah’s location, Caroline chanted more forcefully, plunging both hands into the ingredients and channeling her powers more forcefully. With a great shudder, the bowl suddenly shattered, spilling ingredients across the countertop and covering the girls in glass shards. Fortunately, they had enough presence of mind to perform a protection spell as a safety measure before beginning the ritual, so the broken pieces didn’t harm them, but it was unsettling to say the least.

“What does this mean, Caroline?”

“Well, Bonnie, the good news is we’ve found Elijah,” Caroline carefully began, glancing around the bakery with a frown. “The bad news is the ritual says he’s in this room, but if that’s true, I certainly don’t see him.”

The girls began frantically searching the room, chanting as they urged their magic to seek out that which could not be seen by the naked eye. They were interrupted by an agitated Klaus throwing open the shop door with a loud bang. “My hybrids are utterly useless,” he growled. “The search parties I’ve assembled returned with nothing to show for their efforts. None of my contacts report anything that would raise the slightest suspicion. It’s as though Elijah has vanished.”

Caroline moved out from behind the counter to wrap him in a quick embrace. Her breath caught when she felt how tightly he squeezed her, as though needing to reassure himself that she was still there. Regardless of how often Elijah and Klaus were at odds, they were family, and they would fight _for_ each other almost as often as they would fight _with_ each other. “We’re going to figure this out,” she murmured softly against his chest. She pulled away from him slightly and said, “Bex called earlier with a list of the most recent suspects that might have the power and the motivation to kidnap an Original.”

Bonnie began reading off of a list, “There’s the Jefferson Parish werewolves, the smaller Marrero pack, a trio of goblins, a siren three states over, and that loudmouth wraith with the funny hair.”

Klaus seemed impressed. “I’ve managed to make that many enemies this year?”

Caroline snorted, “Please. That’s _Elijah’s_ list of recent enemies. _Your_ list is here,” she said, thrusting her phone in his face.

Lost in thought, Klaus began scrolling through the list. And scrolling. And scrolling. And scrolling. Rolling her eyes, Caroline snatched back her phone. “Your list of enemies is like a Tumblr blog — an endless vortex of resentment and hostility.”

Bonnie let out a groan of frustration. “But no one that Bex mentioned would be able to access the kind of trans-dimensional magic that would somehow displace Elijah’s essence like this.”

Klaus took a step forward, the anxiety present in his voice as he asked, “What do you mean? Have you figured out what happened to my brother?”

“We performed a locator spell, but all we could determine is that Elijah is _somewhere_ in this room,” Caroline explained, clenching her fists in irritation.

Bonnie sighed, “This is also the last place that he was seen. Are we sure the spell isn’t defective?”

“So you think the spell is just focusing on the copious amounts of DNA he left behind,” Caroline asked wryly. She shrugged her shoulders at Klaus’ incredulous look. “What? Bonnie was in her bakery with a date — you think she was giving him pastry pointers?”

Klaus shook his head, clearly trying to banish the unwanted images of his brother and Bonnie from his mind. He gazed around the room, his gray eyes narrowed in concentration. “Is it possible that his form has been altered rather than displaced?”

Bonnie shook her head, “No way. It takes a ton of power to transform somebody into an inanimate object. Plus, I’d think I’d realize if my date got turned into a chair, Klaus!”

Caroline was quiet as she contemplated Bonnie’s words. She walked back to the counter and leaned over to pluck something from a shelf. “Oh no,” she whispered, somewhat horrified. “But if it was representational magic, that’s more plausible…”

“What is it, love?” Klaus was at her side instantly, noting her distress.

She continued to carefully examine the folk art sculpture in her hands, lightly caressing the carved wood as though her touch would somehow unlock its secrets. “I think the spell was correct; Elijah _is_ in this room…and somehow trapped in this doll.”

Bonnie laughed hysterically. “That’s ridiculous, Caroline!” She threw her hands in the air in aggravation and yelled, “Elijah _was_ Elijah at the end of our date; he did not turn into my decor!”

Klaus’ eyes narrowed in concentration. “But did you see him actually leave the bakery?”

“Well, no,” Bonnie faltered. “We kissed goodnight and I told him I needed to work on staff schedules before I closed up for the evening. When I came back into the room, he was gone.”

“Bonnie, this doll looks different from when you bought it,” Caroline said, eyeing the carving critically. “It was a shirtless figure playing an instrument, but there are all these additional lines on its torso now, almost like an outline of something.”

Peering down at the sculpture, Klaus said in disbelief, “Bloody hell, it’s a suit jacket!”

“Oh look! There’s a tie,” Caroline pointed out helpfully.

“Gimme that,” Bonnie hissed, grabbing the doll from Caroline’s hands. She examined the object, her green eyes flashing. She suddenly emitted a shrill eeep and the doll clattered to the countertop. “Oh my god — there’s pinstripes in that tie. He was wearing that tie the night we — Oh lord, Elijah got turned into my horn blower!”  

Klaus’ confused gray eyes sought Caroline’s and she shrugged her shoulders. “I doubt we want to delve too deeply into the meanings behind Bonnie and Elijah’s pet names.”

“That’s the name of the statue,” Bonnie barked in irritation. She started assembling various ingredients into a bowl beside the doll. “We need to do a revelation spell so Elijah’s no longer inanimate. Then, he’ll be able to help us figure out who did this to him.”

Caroline began grinding mugwort and dried burdock root and moved out of the way for Bonnie to impatiently splash anise-laced wine. Chanting together, they clasped hands over the object, the gold bands of magic sparking with their connection before it sank into the wooden surface.

They all seemed to collectively hold their breath as they stared at the doll, looking for the slightest twinge of movement. The folk art shook slightly, as though casting off the shackles of a long sleep. The carved wood suddenly became fluid, its blunt edges rippling like silk in the florescent-lit haze. The doll carefully stood up, setting down its instrument and giving his astonished audience a deeply affronted glare.

Bonnie gasped, “Elijah?”

The wooden doll turned its face to her and silently nodded. It pointed to its jaw and gestured impatiently.

“Why isn’t he speaking,” Klaus asked impatiently. Raising his volume, he moved closer to the statue and said, “Elijah, can you hear me?”

The sculpture jumped an inch or two and quickly put his hands to the sides of his head where his ears would have been located had the artist chosen to carve them. Amidst a muttered apology from the hybrid, he glared at the group with a surprising amount of venom for a doll standing no taller than a foot.

“He doesn’t have a mouth,” Caroline explained, trying and failing to keep the awe from her voice as she reconciled the fact that the pompous, all-powerful Elijah had somehow been shoved into this random piece of folk art.

“Wait — how do we know for sure it’s Elijah? We might be talking to the resurrected spirit of a serial killer,” Bonnie argued.

“Are serial killers known for practicing voodoo rites,” Klaus asked skeptically.

“Just in mildly entertaining B-horror movie franchises,” Caroline said, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, don’t knock those movies! That was genius introducing Jennifer Tilly into the mix,” Bonnie protested.

The doll carefully sat down on the edge of the gleaming countertop, mindful of the slick surface. He rested one ankle across his knee and began to smooth a hand along the calf where a trouser crease would be. The effect was ruined somewhat by the fact that the artist had sculpted billowing palazzo pants rather than a proper suit. Once cured, the stuffy Original was undoubtedly going to peel the artist’s skin slowly from his body and then make him roll around in salt before ripping off his head. Or, he’d rearrange his sock drawer. Either way, unspeakable doom would befall the unsuspecting artist.

“Well, that gesture right there is patently Elijah,” Klaus acknowledged, trying and failing to keep the amusement from his voice.

Caroline turned to Bonnie and asked, “We need to be sure it’s really him. So are you quizzing Chucky or what?”

Sighing, Bonnie pulled out her phone and carefully set it next to the doll. Bending down so she was at eye-level with it, she said, “Okay, so I was suspicious of Elijah’s intentions when he asked me out after rejecting me. I asked him to pinpoint the moment he changed his mind about me. What did he say?”

The statue immediately crouched down beside the phone and started pressing letters on the keypad. He typed, “seafood habitat house.”

At Caroline and Klaus’ confused expressions, Bonnie nodded eagerly and explained, “That’s him. Habitat for Humanity had a group of volunteers working on a house a few streets down from the bakery, so I brought a low-country-style boil to the site. While I was serving shrimp and crawfish, I could feel somebody staring at me and I looked over to see Elijah watching me.” She pursed her lips in irritation at the memory. “I was still pretty upset from the things he had said, so I glared at him and that seemed to jar him out of his thoughts. He shook his head, and then that smug bastard had the nerve to smile at me and wave!”

Caroline snorted. “Smugness is phase one of the Mikaelson flirtation. It also seems to find its way into phase two, and three, and four…” She trailed off when she saw the doll glaring at her sharply.

Bonnie caught Elijah’s attention when her voice became soft as she fondly recalled, “Elijah said that he saw me packing up food and giving it to the neighborhood kids who had been watching us from the outskirts. He said he realized he had misjudged me and now could see _the beauty of my heart_.” She smiled and added, “He told me that in that moment, he vowed to _capture that beauty for himself to cherish always_.”

Klaus nodded his approval. “Well done, brother, using your bothersome loquaciousness to your advantage.”

Irritated, Bonnie asked, “Can we please get back to finding out who did this to Elijah?” She addressed the doll that had begun pacing impatiently, “Elijah, do you know who did this to you?”

He paused to shake his head, and then crossed his arms angrily. Bonnie turned to Caroline and said, “So, we need to look at the list of enemies again and cross-reference it with those who could do this spell.” She poked Caroline in the shoulder when she realized Caroline was not paying her any attention as she was too caught up in staring at the tense lines of the doll’s folded arms. “Caroline?!”

“Sorry,” Caroline muttered, tearing her gaze away from Elijah. “I keep finding myself torn between Elijah Wood and Elijah’s wood jokes.”

Klaus snorted. “Perhaps Elijah _wished upon a star_ and this was the end result? Tell me, brother, have you been approached by any talking crickets?”

At Caroline’s giggles, Bonnie rubbed her face in irritation. “Enough! Can we focus here, people?”

“Sorry, Bon, Elijah,” Caroline mumbled. Looking at the leftover ingredients from their spell, she said thoughtfully, “Let’s start by examining the spell that turned Elijah. We should think about the ingredients and steps needed for the ritual.” She impishly winked at the doll and added, “It’ll be child’s play.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes at the too-obvious joke, but ignored it to think critically about the spell itself. “The witch would need graveyard dirt, the older the cemetery, the more powerful the spell.” She turned to Klaus and asked, “Can you compel your way into getting ahold of any footage from traffic cameras near the cemeteries? Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch a glimpse of the bad guy.”

“Do you realize how many tourists go to the cemeteries? Bollocks, even Elijah and I were at a cemetery that day to meet the ghoul delegation. Not to mention how easy it would be to compel someone to do your bidding. We’re never going to find them this way!”

“Did they act suspicious? What did they say,” Bonnie asked, eagerly jumping on this new information.

He shrugged his shoulders, “They’re ghouls. _Suspicious_ is their state of being.” He glanced over at the sculpture that had stopped its impatient pacing to stare at him thoughtfully. “Elijah, did you notice anything off about our meeting?” At the doll’s careless wave, Klaus said, “Agreed. The ghouls behaved as one would expect. While we cannot dismiss the possibility that they are the culprits, we need more to go on.”   

“Well, the incantation is fairly specific for representational magic. You have to speak about merging bodies and souls while in the doll’s presence.” Caroline slowly looked over at Klaus and then back at the counter itself. “We think this happened to Elijah on Tuesday?”

“Yes, why,” Bonnie asked in confusion.

“That was the morning I helped out here at the bakery while you ran errands,” Caroline said in a small voice.

“And you said nothing happened while I was gone. We didn’t have any customers,” Bonnie said cautiously, failing to follow Caroline’s train of thought.

“That’s not quite accurate,” Klaus said uncomfortably. “I may have stopped by to keep Caroline company, and we decided to occupy ourselves since the bakery was empty.”

“Did you at least sanitize my counter after you defiled it,” Bonnie asked with a scowl.

“Yes,” Caroline said indignantly. “But the point is that during our interlude, I _may_ have muttered the merging bodies and souls part of the incantation by accident, and I know that creepy doll was there by the register.” She shook her head and said in relief, “But on the other hand, the next part of the incantation is about keeping one forever in that moment, and I know I didn’t say that.”

Bonnie emitted a small squeak. “Actually, um, you guys weren’t the only ones to ride the counter that day.” She glanced down at the doll, who was rubbing the back of its neck in embarrassment. “While we were going at it, I may have said something about wishing I could keep him forever in this moment.”

“Seriously?” Caroline rolled her eyes. “This is ridiculous. Are we saying we accidentally turned Elijah into Pinocchio?”

“If there was graveyard dirt on his shoes, plus the incantation was said, just not all at once…” Klaus trailed off, the corners of his mouth twitching as he tried to maintain a serious face.

“But then Elijah would have had to touch the doll to seal the spell and infuse his body and soul into the doll,” Caroline explained. “He didn’t touch the statue, right, Bonnie?”

At the doll’s woeful expression, Bonnie replied, “Well, when I came back out from the office after I thought Elijah had left, I noticed that we had knocked the sculpture to the floor. Maybe Elijah went to pick it up?”

The doll nodded quickly, and Caroline said, “So it’s settled then. We accidentally stuffed Elijah into a wooden doll. On the plus side, since we all had a hand in this mess, the counter-spell will be fairly easy to reverse.” Addressing the sculpture she said reassuringly, “You’ll be back to being a real boy playing naughty health inspector before you know it.” 

With a delighted grin, Klaus whispered in Caroline’s ear, “See? I told you Elijah must have altered your new toy’s specifications to mimic his size.”


	14. The Great Gasp-y

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reference some events that occurred in Chapters 9, 11 and 13 in this series, so you may want to reread them. 
> 
> Warning: Some smut.

''He looked at her the way all women want to be looked at by a man.''

— F. Scott Fitzgerald,  _The Great Gatsby_

 

* * *

 

Nothing in Klaus’ absurdly long life could have prepared him for this. There was no violent battle, no unspeakable torture he had experienced that he could call upon now in his time of need. His steel gray eyes flicked about the crowded room, searching for an escape. He was woefully unprepared to face this many at once and he fought back the slight panic he had begun to feel. He was the original immortal hybrid, ancient Viking King of New Orleans and he refused to be intimidated.

“So, as I was saying, continue mashing the berries until there’s enough juice for you to paint with,” Klaus explained as calmly as he could, avoiding direct eye contact with any of the curious yet judgmental faces of Caroline’s packed elementary school classroom.

“Mr. Klaus, is this how you had to paint in olden times ‘cause you so old,” asked one little boy at a back table.

Before Klaus could form an indignant reply, another little boy elbowed the first to disagree with him, explaining, “Nu-uh! He’s not THAT old. He’s like our dads’ age so he’s like old but not OLD OLD.”

“Jason, it’s not nice to call someone _old_ ,” Caroline said sharply. “Apologize to our guest speaker.”

With his tiny ears tinged red in embarrassment, Jason mumbled, “Sorry, Mr. Klaus.”

“Quite alright lad,” Klaus said magnanimously. “Perhaps one day I’ll share with you my _true_ age,” he said with a cheeky grin, earning a furious glare from Caroline. “Now, getting back to our lesson, if you want more red in your paint, add the beets you helped Miss Caroline pick out of the garden.”

“Mr. Klaus,” interrupted a little girl in braids, “are you going to marry Miss Caroline?”

Before Klaus or Caroline could come up with a diplomatic answer to such an intrusive and complicated question, Jason shook his head violently and protested vehemently, “No! He can’t ‘cause she’s MY Miss Caroline!” His skin paled at his obvious distress, causing his freckles to stand out even more prominently, and he seemed on the brink of tears when he added, “She’s pretty and nice and she brings us flowers and I like her AND I saw her FIRST!”

With a smirk, Klaus replied, “Well, not to nitpick, lad, but I’m fairly confident that _I_ saw her —”

Caroline quickly interrupted her smug hybrid with, “Klaus!” Her blue eyes flashed a warning that, by the looks of his signature grin, he was choosing to ignore.

“Tell me, Jason, you wouldn’t happen to be a fan of Nine Inch Nails, would you,” Klaus asked with an impish grin. “Miss Caroline appears to attract a certain type, you see,” he added with a roguish wink.

Clearing her throat in irritation, Caroline clapped her hands to get her students’ attention. “Okay, everyone, let’s get back to work! Don’t forget about the spinach leaves we mashed up from our garden — they make excellent green paint.”

Unfortunately, the children’s curiosity about their guest speaker was far from satisfied. After painting a wide green streak on her paper, a little girl with glasses pointed her brush at Klaus and asked loudly, “Mr. Klaus, are you gonna have kids with Miss Caroline?”

He smiled gently at the student and said, “No, I already have a grown daughter. I won’t have any more.”

“Why come? Is it because your wiener broke,” asked Jason, who clearly sensed Klaus’ growing discomfort and insisted upon adding to it.

“Mr. Klaus has a broken wiener,” stage-whispered a couple of students near the front of the classroom, looking at the uncomfortable hybrid awkwardly shuffling his feet under their pitying gaze.

“I’m sorry you have a broken wiener, Mr. Klaus,” the girl in glasses solemnly told him, “Why don’t you go to the doctor to get it fixed?”

The boy who had elbowed Jason earlier loudly announced, “You’re not ‘sposed to call it _wiener_ or you get in trouble. Mommy says you call it _willy_.”

“Why come Mr. Klaus’ broken willy means no babies,” asked another child curiously.

Caroline bit her lips to keep from laughing at not only her students’ obscenely intrusive yet hilarious interrogation, but also at Klaus’ terrified expression as he fought valiantly to craft a response. “Children! Those questions weren’t very nice. Apologize for hurting our guest’s feelings,” she told them in her serious tone. After their mumbled apologies, she added, “The bell is getting ready to ring, so everyone thank Mr. Klaus for sharing his time with us today, and then clean up your workstations.”

The students all chirped their thanks to Klaus and scrambled to rinse out their paint cups and brushes. The bell range before they could line up at the door, so they quickly grabbed their backpacks and hugged Caroline before heading out of the classroom.    

Gray eyes blazing, Klaus turned to her and growled, “Well, that was the most bloody awful ordeal I’ve ever experienced.”

Amused, Caroline cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Worse than when those Arkansas warlocks ripped out your toenails with their teeth? Because honestly, that incident is in my top 10 of our ickier adventures with bad guys.”

“Oh yes, far worse than that. I had no idea there would be so many of those terrifying creatures. All staring into my soul with their beady little eyes, waiting patiently to devour me at the first sign of weakness,” he shuddered dramatically, following her out of the classroom.

“Please. That could have been so much worse. Imagine if Bonnie and Bex had brought snacks like they had threatened to do just to see your “teacher face”? They’re going to be pissed when they hear about the prime comedy gold they missed.” She winked at him as they stopped by his Escalade in the parking lot.

Klaus slid into the driver’s side and said, “I would consider it a personal favor if we could keep your little hellions’ foul questions between us.” As she settled into the passenger’s seat, he kissed her temple and whispered seductively, “I’ll make it worth your while. I find myself eager to remind you of how well my _wiener_ works.”

“ _Willy_ ,” she murmured playfully, “otherwise you could get in trouble, remember?” She leaned over to pull him into a deep, soulful kiss, relishing in his sharp intake of breath.

He broke away from her and rumbled, “Let’s take this somewhere a bit more private, love.”

“No. Here. Now. I’ll hide your vehicle with a spell,” she said breathlessly, then began chanting while crawling into his lap.

He dipped his head down to pepper the curve of her neck with kisses, gently sucking and nipping at her soft, ivory skin. He pushed up the hem of her knee-length caftan, squeezing her strong thighs and kneading the smooth flesh he exposed.

She hummed in delight as she rolled her hips against him, the warmth of his hard body seeping into hers. She guided his hand to her damp panties, curling his long fingers around her own as they slid under the simple cotton to toy with her slickness together. Groaning at the delightful feeling, their combined fingertips blazed a fiery trail across her delicate folds.

“Can you fit us both, sweetheart,” Klaus murmured, pushing the tips of their fingers experimentally to her core’s opening.

“Yes,” Caroline hissed, shoving her hips forward to quickly sheath their fingers into her wetness. Klaus curled their fingers just so within her, causing her to capture his lips in a punishing kiss as she let out another groan.

He slowly pumped their fingers inside, drawing out her pleasure as his lustful gaze darkened with his signature gold. “I can feel you trembling, love. Does your body want my cock?”

She panted out a strangled, “Please!”

“Do you still think it’s broken,” Klaus growled, removing their fingers to pull them into his pouting mouth.

She flicked her tongue eagerly over his red lips, desperately chasing the taste of her pleasure. “Not — not broken,” she pleaded, her blue eyes filled with want.

With a wolfish grin, he quickly unzipped his gray trousers, releasing his erection to graze her slick thighs. He opened her wide and plunged his length inside with a satisfied grunt. His fingers sought her plump little cheeks, pulling her close and encouraging her to grind down into his welcoming lap.

Caroline quickly caught on to the teasing rhythm Klaus desired, and began swirling her hips in circles and half-circles of erotic delight that made her hybrid dizzy with desire. Movement past the Escalade’s darkly tinted windows caught her gaze and she bucked powerfully into his thrusting hips as she said lowly, “There goes Principal Foster. Wouldn’t he be horrified if he could see our little show?” She gasped as she felt his fangs nip at her cleavage. She added breathlessly, “Sweet little Nurse Becky and Miss Corrine would sprout flaming red blushes if they could see what we’re doing.”

“You love the feeling of parading wicked little deeds out in the open where your colleagues are none the wiser. Naughty minx, you’re on the verge of ecstasy, and all it takes is the sight of others walking by in an oblivious fog to tip you right over the edge,” he purred into her ear, smirking as her body shattered above him. With a few more calculated thrusts, he followed her into ecstasy.

They rested against each other for a moment, inhaling the comforting aroma of their sweat-soaked skin and raw passion. Grinning foolishly, they chose to quickly drive back to Klaus’ house for a lengthy rendezvous. Once they arrived, they giddily raced to his front door, kissing and laughing against the tall Corinthian columns.

Their adorable antics were interrupted when they heard soft moans and sighs echoing down the hall from the dining room. With an exaggerated shushing gesture, Klaus put his finger to his lips and leaned into Caroline to quietly whisper, “Bonnie appears to be mauling my dear brother once again.”  

“Doubtful,” Caroline scoffed in a low tone. “Masterpiece Theater refuses even slightly private venues for their escapades ever since his recent Pinocchio trauma.”

At the distinctive sound of cloth ripping, he smirked and replied, “It sounds like Elijah reconsidered.” He headed down the hallway toward the mystery sighs and glanced back at her with an impish grin. “Come, love, aren’t you a little curious to see what embarrassment looks like on Elijah?”

“Not particularly. Also, it’s creepy and unnatural to _want_ to catch a family member in a compromising position,” she responded, rolling her eyes as she reluctantly followed him.

“Nonsense, it’s perfectly natural,” Klaus retorted with a wicked grin as he flung open the double doors to the dining room.

Caroline and Klaus both froze in horror at the sight before them. A red-faced Hope was straddling an equally embarrassed Remy, both of their shirts in a careless pile underneath the oak dining room table.

Caroline turned toward Klaus and said weakly, “You were right. This seems perfectly natural.”


	15. Cream and Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This chapter will be the last installment of this series — for now. Even though I’m marking this series of one-shots as complete, I may create more chapters in the future if my muse returns.
> 
> This chapter takes place immediately following the events in Chapter 14. Also, references are made to events from Chapter 13.
> 
> Warning: Some smut

“Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart.”   
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, _Crime and Punishment_

 

* * *

 

“Felt it in my hips so I dipped back to my bag of tricks.”

― Salt 'n' Pepa, _Shoop_   


* * *

 

“You expected compassion and understanding? From _that_ immortal asshat? Convincing Bonnie to give up her freaky times with food would be easier,” Caroline exclaimed, rolling her eyes at Remy.

Remy sighed as he pulled the strings unnecessarily tight around the bundles of sage and feverfew he was helping Caroline hang up to dry. “I guess I just thought since he’d known me most of my life and knew what kind of man I was, he’d be ok with me seeing Hope.”

Caroline draped several herb bundles over the hooks she had installed in her wood beams. Snorting, she replied, “Not to agree with or in any way support that unreasonable asshat, but it was a bit jarring yesterday to _see_ how much you and Hope were _seeing_ each other.”

“Yeah, we didn’t really think that through when we got back from lunch,” he said with an adorable flush of embarrassment creeping across his cheeks. “We’ve only been dating about a month and wanted to wait a bit longer before telling everyone. We apparently had some well-founded concerns about the reaction.”

Her blue eyes softened as she took another bundle from Remy to hang. “I’m sorry that you both didn’t feel comfortable telling us.” She thought back to the unfortunate scene yesterday and her blood still hummed with anger.

_After the initial shock wore off of unexpectedly catching Remy and Hope in such a compromising position, Klaus had bellowed for Remy to “stay away from Hope,” and flashed toward the startled werewolf, yanking him off of the table and hurling him at a wall._

_It was the sound of the plaster cracking that had snapped Caroline out of her bewildered daze. Klaus had dared to harm_ her _godson._ Her Remy _. She would not suffer such an insult. Her blue eyes a blazing inferno, she flicked her wrist and tossed the incensed hybrid against the opposite wall, holding him there with a powerful barrier spell. “Do not presume to think you can touch what is mine, hybrid,” she hissed at her lover._

_Eyes dark with rage, he struggled against the invisible bonds, baring his fangs, “He has no right to enter_ my _home and disrespect_ my _daughter! That swamp rat is unworthy of her!”_

_Klaus’ cruel words turned Caroline’s stomach. She coldly said, “We have raised our children well, nurtured them as best we could. They are more than capable of deciding what is best for them.” She glanced toward Remy, who was being helped to his feet by a tearful Hope. He appeared to be uninjured, just the breath knocked out of him — which was fortunate — for Klaus. Glaring at Klaus once more, she added with an uncharacteristic bite to her words, “Furthermore, if you feel that_ my _godson isn’t good enough for_ your _daughter, then you also must believe that you’ve lowered_ your _standards to be with a swamp rat like_ me _. After all,_ I _grew up on the bayou too.”_

_At her venomous declaration, Klaus’ black veins had receded and his gray eyes widened in alarm. “No,” he said frantically, lunging ineffectively against her spell. “Caroline, wait, that’s not what I meant.” His voice betrayed a hint of panic as his eyes swept over Remy and Hope, who returned his gaze with glares full of hostility. “Remy — it’s not…I didn’t mean…It’s just that Hope is too young to know what she wants and —”_

_Hope shrilly cut off Klaus’ uncharacteristically jumbled words with, “I’m 26! I’ve had two long-term relationships and a broken engagement. I’ve started a promising career where I travel the world and have amassed enough life experience to feel confident that casually dating a good, kind man I’ve known all my life is one of the better choices I will make!” She squeezed Remy’s hand and wiped away the hot tears that stubbornly clung to her cheeks. “Remy, will you and Caroline please excuse us? I need to have an uncomfortably  loud discussion with my father.”_

_Remy had looked hesitant to leave, but realized that Hope’s authoritative tone meant she wouldn’t appreciate his interference._

_Caroline had no such qualms and stepped closer to Hope, holding her gaze steadily as she asked in a protective manner, “Are you sure?” At Hope’s resolute nod, she and Remy made their way out of the dining room._

_Klaus let out a frustrated plea, calling after them, “Sweetheart, wait!” Refusing to turn around, Caroline straightened her shoulders and held one hand up in the air, snapping her fingers matter-of-factly to release her barrier spell. She could still hear Klaus’ frantic cries as she and Remy drove away._

Remy startled her from her troubled memory. “Hey, Hope and I knew you’d come around and be happy for us. I think Klaus will eventually.” At his godmother’s derisive snort, he added, “It may shock you to hear that Klaus called me last night and apologized. Somewhat. It sounded like he was gritting his teeth through most of it, but I suspect that I may be only the third or fourth person he’s ever apologized to, so I’ll grade him on a curve.”

“Ugh, your cautious optimism about this is incredibly off-putting,” she groaned at him, hopping down from the footstool.

“Hey I’d love to be as happy as a Honey Bunches of Oats factory worker, but we don’t all get that, so I’ll have to grab joy where I can,” he grinned, elbowing her playfully.

Tossing the remaining herb cuttings into the trash, she rolled her eyes. “Please. No one can be as happy as those employees. Actually, their commercials remind me of the old Saturn commercials. I have this theory that when Saturn closed down, they just moved everybody to that cereal factory.”

“Spooky cereal conspiracy theories aside, I also thought you’d be interested in knowing that Klaus was anxious to speak with you too last night, but apparently you had turned your phone off.” Remy’s lips quirked into a half-smile as he continued, “He even asked for my advice about how to begin to approach his apology to you. I told him that knowing you, his best bet would be to give you space last night so he wouldn’t accidentally wander into your experimental vengeful voodoo spells.”

“Whatever, I didn’t create _that_ many spells last night. I just beta tested a few theories on how to make the vas deferens spontaneously tie itself into a stevedore stopper knot.” As the color drained from Remy’s face, Caroline arched an eyebrow and asked, “What? You know what they say about idle hands.” She shook her head, hastily changing the subject. “I didn’t invite you over to talk about Klaus. I want to hear about Hope. I thought you guys were living on opposite ends of the world — how did this even happen?”

With a gentle smile, Remy explained, “As you know, for the past decade I’ve been a geophysical contractor traveling to multiple international jobsites. A few months ago, my company was contacted by Hope’s university about performing ground-penetrating radar to survey one of their dig sites and identify a potential archaeological find. Hope was one of the archaeologists on the dig site’s team and we started spending a lot of time together which eventually lead to us realizing we liked each other.”

Caroline swooned, “That has the potential for an epic Hallmark movie.”

Remy laughed and kissed her on the cheek, shrugging into his jacket. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’re taking things slow, but so far, I think we’re happy with where things are going.” As he and Caroline walked toward her front door, he added, “It’s a new day, Caroline. You’ve had some time to cool off, so will you please turn back on your phone? You’ll feel better after you work this out with Klaus.”

Sticking out her tongue at him, she made a big show of pushing the button on her phone, cringing as her alert music kept sounding. It appears Klaus had stubbornly continued trying to contact her even after it was obvious she wasn’t going to respond. Shutting the door behind Remy, she went upstairs to grab a pair of sandals and her purse. Her phone immediately starting ringing. Noting the caller with a sigh, Caroline answered, “No.”

Klaus’ frustrated voice responded, “Sweetheart, I —”

Caroline disconnected the call with a huff as she headed back downstairs. Remy wasn’t the boss of her. The phone instantly rang again, and with an aggravated grunt, she answered, “Nu uh.”

“Love, if you will just —”

She quickly disconnected the call again, trying not to smirk at how irritated Klaus sounded. Palming her car keys from the hook by the front door, she pulled it open and was immediately accosted by the hybrid asshat in question. “Seriously? How long have you been lurking on my doorstep?”

“Not long,” Klaus said calmly, his gray eyes trying and failing to convey his innocence. “Although I must admit I agree with you about those cereal folk. That degree of cheerfulness is inherently nefarious.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed past him and walked toward her car. “I don’t have time for this, Klaus.”

Klaus followed her, his hands clenched in frustration. “Love, I’m trying to apologize to you. What I said yesterday about your godson —”

Caroline cut him off angrily, “Was loathsome, narrow-minded and inexcusable!” Pushing her flyaway curls out of her face she added, “Remy is a good man as you damn well know, and both he and Hope are adults fully capable of making rational, healthy decisions about their lives. I know this to be true because we raised those kids to be that way!”

His gaze softened and his tone took on an uncharacteristic gentleness. “I know, sweetheart, and I can assure you that everything you’ve said as well as all the things you’re thinking have been discussed extensively when Hope railed at me yesterday after you and Remy left.” He tentatively reached out to brush her cheek and softly entreated, “Please allow me to make amends.”

With a stubborn jerk of her chin, she moved away from his touch and growled, “Not now. I have to attend a school board meeting where they are attempting to take away the free and reduced lunch program. Just another case of an evil, manipulative entity trying to dominate and ruin lives!” She angrily slammed her car door, driving away from him hastily. She would deal with him after she saved her kids.

After parking her convertible with a definitive tire screech, she quickly made her way into the elementary school’s auditorium. She stealthily slid into the empty row of seats at the back of the room, trying not to draw attention to herself. As Principal Foster began his opening statement at the podium, she quietly reached into her bag and pulled out a group of river clay effigies. After a casual glance around the room, she realized no one was paying attention to her, so she lined up the dark gray dolls on the empty cushioned chair next to her — one for each board member. After Masterpiece Theater’s unfortunate Pinocchio incident, she had been somewhat hesitant to practice representational magic, but she knew from experience that when faced with a narrow-minded, willfully ignorant school board, she needed to send in the dolls.

She eyed Principal Foster’s synthetic hairpiece as it perched precariously atop his sweaty head. When his rambling speech circled closer to the issue of shutting down the free and reduced lunch program, she softly began chanting over the doll she had made for him, the likeness even mimicking his flabby pot belly. However, before she could finish the incantation and seal her spell, Principal Foster announced, “Furthermore, the school board has decided not only to keep the free and reduced lunch program, but also to expand it to encompass more students in need.” Caroline dropped the doll in shock, scarcely believing her ears. What was going on here?

Principal Foster followed up his surprising announcement with the peculiar statement, “Here I go, here I go, here I go again. Girls, what's my weakness? Men! Ok then, chillin', chillin', mindin' my business, I looked around, and I couldn't believe this.” The flatness of his gaze faded suddenly and he cleared his throat awkwardly as he shuffled his note cards and returned to his seat without further explanation.

_That scheming hybrid asshat_. Caroline whipped her head violently around the auditorium, searching in vain for Klaus. The school board already consisted of soulless bureaucrats with blank stares and voices devoid of emotion, so of course she didn’t notice their obvious compulsion. At first, she was indignant that Klaus was cheating to achieve his goal, but then she realized she was hurriedly stuffing clay voodoo dolls back into her purse and thus allowed the hypocrisy to wash over her calmly.

Before she could determine what to do, the board’s elderly president approached the podium, the unflattering fluorescent lights glinting off of his thick glasses. He stated flatly, “Our charter school has received an unprecedented donation from an anonymous source and with this surplus, we will be able to reduce class sizes and hire additional qualified instructors.” He was interrupted by jubilant cheering from some of Caroline’s fellow teachers including Nurse Becky and Miss Corrine. Once the cheering died down, he continued inexplicably with, “I swear, I stared, my niece my witness. The brother had it goin' on with somethin' kinda, uh wicked, wicked (ooh) had to kick it. I'm not shy so I asked for the digits. A ho? No, that don't make me see what I want slip slide to it swiftly.” Seemingly oblivious to the confusion his bizarre words caused among the audience, he gestured toward the board’s vice president and returned to his seat.

Caroline’s thoughts were reeling as she turned over the absurd statements of her principal and board president in her mind. They almost sounded like… _No_. Did Klaus seriously compel her school board to recite Salt 'n' Pepa’s ‘Shoop’ lyrics to her? As she struggled from her chair to stop this nonsense, the board’s vice president took the podium to announce, “In addition, this donation will allow us to expand our special education program to hire additional staff as well as provide increased training opportunities and the ability to offer significant incentive packages for staff willing to sign multi-year contracts with the school.”

The audience was once again stunned by the unprecedented news and loudly applauded. Once the noise had died down, the vice president adjusted her polka dot scarf before flatly adding, “Felt it in my hips so I dipped back to my bag of tricks. Then I flipped for a tip, make me wanna do tricks for him. Lick him like a lollipop should be licked. Came to my senses and I chilled for a bit. Don't know how you do the voodoo that you do so well. It's a spell, hell, makes me wanna shoop, shoop, shoop.”

Biting her lip to keep from laughing, Caroline tried to remind herself that she was angry at her hybrid asshat and would not be moved by a few paltry gestures. Except his “paltry” gestures were quite possibly the single most significant educational reform a New Orleans school had seen since embracing charter schools. She finished standing up, striding purposefully toward the stage, but from the moment she began her trek, the school board robotically rose from their chairs and announced that the meeting was adjourned until next week to finish discussing the details of the announcements. She swiftly cut through the exiting crowd, and climbed onto the empty stage. When the last attendee left the auditorium, Klaus suddenly flashed to her side.

“Impressive apology,” she said dryly.

“I’m afraid I cannot take all the credit, love. I may have asked Hope and Remy for some ideas,” he replied almost shyly as he thrust his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

“And it appears you consulted Elijah for the romantic mood music,” she asked with a chuckle.

He glanced away, scratching the back of his neck and mumbled, “He said it worked on the little witch.”

Caroline stepped forward, grasping his hands in hers. “What you did here today — I don’t think you comprehend how much this will change my school for the better. You’ve helped the neighborhood kids who don’t even exist yet. Thank you.”

“I wanted to do something for you, but nothing I thought of seemed right. Once Remy mentioned your planned crusade at the board meeting today, I knew that this was how I could show you how I truly feel. My place is fighting beside you my love, not with you. My actions and words yesterday were inexcusable and I do not expect forgiveness or acceptance. All I ask is the chance to show you every day how precious you are to me.” He gazed at her earnestly, his steel gray eyes boring through her with a powerful intensity.

“And Remy and Hope?”

Klaus sighed, shaking his head with a smile, “They were considerably more forgiving than you and I could ever be. In fact, half-way through my argument with Hope, she convinced me to call Remy and apologize and then ask him to return to the mansion so we could plot how I could make amends with you. I am loathe to admit that anyone will ever be good enough for my daughter, but the little wolf does show promise.”

“It’s going to take me some time to move past the fact that you manhandled my godson and the hurtful words you said, but what we have is not something I care to lose. We’ll fight some more, of that you can be sure, but I do like the anticipation of continuing to fight by your side,” she said softly.

“Partners,” he asked hesitantly.

“Partners,” she replied firmly, yanking his lips down upon hers for a fierce kiss full of teeth and tongue.

He responded to her enthusiasm with eager touches, sliding his hands down her arms and coming to rest at the small of her back. His kisses left her breathless as he wielded his tongue to great effect, stroking her mouth and pulling out her most obscene moans. Soon, he grew impatient and craved more from their feverish contact, and with a growl he yanked her off her feet and planted her firmly on top of the tall wooden podium.

Caroline felt the familiar tingling of anticipation as she spied Klaus’ dark gaze tinged with gold as he dropped to his knees before her. She felt his insistent fingertips dig into the tops of her thighs as he roughly parted her legs. She excitedly helped him along with his exploration by reaching down to pull at the hem of her embroidered skirt, bunching it past her knees in a blatant sensual invitation.

He gently pushed the cotton fabric to her waist, groaning softly as her lacey boyshorts were displayed. He traced an inquisitive finger across the strategic cutouts, momentarily dipping inside to caress her exposed ivory skin. At her slight shudder, he smirked, teasing, “What’s this, sweetheart? Barely a day has passed and already you’re longing for my touch?”

Not in the mood for gentle, Caroline grasped his dirty blonde curls, glaring playfully as she hissed, “Yes. Now give me what I want.”

Klaus allowed himself to be pulled back to her starving lips, delighting her with his deep kisses before chuckling darkly against her moaning mouth. “Oh, I’ll be sure to give you want you want, love. But first, a taste of what you deserve,” he promised. He quickly tilted her hips, her legs falling open further to display her barely-concealed core. With an unexpected series of playful smacks, he tapped his hand against her cloth-covered center, humming with appreciation as his palm detected her growing desire. “You enjoy this, don’t you? Giving your pussy the spanking it needs,” he rumbled.

“Yes, Klaus,” she whined, bucking wildly under his ministrations. She cried out in delight as he leaned forward and ripped through the lace with a practiced flick of his sharp fangs. The first rasp of his rough tongue upon her folds sent her spiraling into sweet madness, and she barely had enough presence of mind to curl a toned calf around his muscular back and draw him closer to her trembling core. He furiously lapped at her essence, causing her to stiffen as she came apart under his soft lips.

Klaus grasped the ends of the podium and yanked himself back to his feet, favoring Caroline with a wicked grin. “Shall we attend to what you want, sweetheart?”

Blue eyes darkened with lust, she curled her lips into a seductive smile and propped her ankles upon his shoulders, moving her core in seductive circles against his stiffening front. “Yes, now give me what I want,” she commanded.

He quickly unzipped his dark jeans to free his aching length, pushing into her welcoming heat with a satisfied moan. Gripping her rocking hips, he moved her back and forth across his thick cock, groaning at the sensual smells of their combined sweat and desire. Her twitching thighs revealed how close she was to another peak, and he increased his strong thrusts to chase after his own release. With a guttural cry, they came together, riding out their last few moments of bliss in a satisfied jumble of limbs.

As Caroline sat up, rearranging her legs around Klaus’ waist, she winked, “You know, I’ve always wanted to christen the teacher’s lounge. Let’s find out what I _deserve_ in there.”      


End file.
